


Reunions

by Josies



Series: No Saints Without Sinners [7]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Almost Kiss, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Saints Row 2 - Freeform, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-29 01:04:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14461746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josies/pseuds/Josies
Summary: The Boss' beloved city has changed, along with the rules, and she struggles to find her place in all of it. To make matters worse, an unexpected, selfish desire emerges from the depths of her suppressed feelings as she's reunited with her best friend, Johnny Gat.





	1. The star of this moment

**Author's Note:**

> This multi-chapter begins from the start of SR2 when the Boss saves Johnny's grumpy butt. I suggest reading _La Bella Durmiente_ and _Rule #1_ (or just all the works that come before this, as everything in the series ties together) cause I'll be referencing to them a lot. Basically I wanna explore what happens when I smash a coma, PTSD and confused feelings of several people together. I have 5 chapters planned, but I have a feeling this is going to turn out longer. And what's the F/F for?? Who knows. ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) More tags to be added later.
> 
> (On my first playthrough I took the first car I saw while running out of the courthouse with Johnny, which was a cop car, and as dumb as it would be to hide from the cops like that, I just had to go with it. Doe gives no fucks.)

 

* * *

**January 2009**

* * *

 

 

"There's Forgive & Forget, get us there!"

"I'm tryin', but these people are so fuckin' slow!"

"Outta the way!" Johnny yells through an open window, scaring off the pedestrians in their way. Doris slams her foot down on the brake to stop the car next to an open hatch with an older woman sitting behind it. Johnny sticks his head out of the window. "Yo, we need—"

The woman holds up a finger for him without taking her eyes off the screen in front of her, subtly telling him to shut up, and he frowns. She smokes a cigarette and chews on bubblegum at the same time, taking her time to finish the phone call, making Johnny slightly regret being back in the real world after two years of imprisonment. Jail was easier than dealing with all the constant societal pressure to behave in an acceptable way, and other such bullshit.

"Welcome to Forgive & Forget," she says after putting the phone down and slowly turning on her chair to face them, "how may I help you?"

"Yeah, just do your magic and pardon our asses," he says, waving his hand her way.

"How would you like to pay? Cash, check, or credit?" She asks. "I'm also going to need to see your identification cards."

"Look, lady," he leans out of the window again to give her a stern look, "we're in a hurry here, and we ain't got the money now, but we'll pay back later. We're old regulars."

"We don't do taps."

"Why the fuck not?" He asks, clearly getting pissed off.

"We don't have the luxury of placing that much trust into our clients."

"Do you fuckin' know who we are?"

She turns to look at a mirror on the opposite wall to see Doris on the driver's seat. Then she turns back to Johnny with a deadpan face, chewing the gum in her mouth. "Bonnie and Clyde?"

Doris snorts loudly. "I like her."

"You really gonna make me pull a gun on you?" Johnny asks.

The woman sighs deeply, in a way that gives them a feel of how utterly fed up she is with the situation they've forced her into, and her job, and her whole life in general. "Sweetie, if you think nobody's pulled a gun on me before, you got another thing coming. This place doesn't pay me enough to deal with you kids with anything but spite."

"Will you please make an exception, so Clyde here won't have to cause a scene?" Doris asks as she crawls over Johnny to bat her lashes at the woman. "We'll pay you double for your trouble next week."

"And why would I trust you on that?"

"I've been told I'm a good girl, and good girls don't lie, right?" She asks with a smile while leaning her chin against her palm and jamming her elbow into Johnny's stomach before he gets to make a snarky comment, or burst out laughing, or whatever the hell he's about to do.

She slowly finishes her cigarette, watching Doris with her lips pursed. "Let's make that triple and by the end of this week, Bonnie."

"Okay, we can make that work."

"Fine, whatever. Just wait there."

"You're a real sweetheart."

Johnny sighs impatiently. "You gonna move your ass?"

"No," she says, resisting the sudden urge to tell him to grab it instead.

He sighs louder, but he doesn't try to push her off, since she's handling the situation better than him. Instead, he reaches over her for a pack of cigarettes he spotted earlier on the dashboard. The whole day's left him with a desperate craving for nicotine. "You being nice to people is so fuckin' disturbin'," he says.

"You should try that sometimes. Makes life a lot easier."

"I ain't nice."

She rolls her eyes. "Bitch, just fake it."

The woman types on her computer while Doris gives her the information she needs to fill out a form. "You're good to go, though I suggest you lose the cop car," she says, handing over a post-it note. "Here's my number."

"Thanks, sweetheart," Doris says in her sweetest tone, finally crawling off Johnny and back to her seat. "We'll see you by the end of the week!"

"I await with baited breath," the woman replies before slamming the hatch shut.

"She's you in a few decades," Johnny notes after rolling his window up, leaving a small gap for the smoke to escape through.

"Fuck off." She grabs the pack of cigarettes from his hand to light one up for herself. "You believe in reincarnation?"

"Why?"

"Doris and Johnny, Bonnie and Clyde," she says like she's narrating a movie trailer, blowing out smoke for added dramatic effect. "It has a ring to it."

"A tacky one."

"Everythin' was tacky back in the fifties."

"Didn't that shit happen twenty years before?" He asks.

"Yeah, but we woulda definitely ruled whatever mafia game they had up here in the fifties," she explains. She's too caught up on spotting things that have changed around the city to notice how she claimed _they_ ruled together, instead of referring only to herself. "Our names followed us from there."

"You think you lived in Stilwater in your previous life?"

"Maybe."

"Thirty minutes in and you're already fantasizin' about being with me in a previous life." He leans in closer to her with a subtle, but insufferable grin turning up one corner of his lips. "How should I take this?"

" _Oye, cállate la puta boca_ ," she mumbles and throws the cigarette pack at him to force him to back down.

"I got a question for you," he says, ignoring her order. "What the hell are you wearin'?"

"You try findin' a fashionable outfit at Sloppy Seconds for fifteen bucks," she says with a pout, even though she knows it isn't a good enough explanation to justify the over-sized black hoodie and the pink yoga pants with a Freckle Bitch's logo on them.

"You're wearin' flip-flops."

"Yeah, so?"

"It's January!"

"You think I didn't notice?!"

"And you still bought 'em!"

"I went to Tee'N'Ay, not fuckin' hikin'!"

"I've never seen you wear anythin' but heels."

"Desperate times." She'd rather be barefoot than wear a pair of ugly, old, infuriatingly sporty sneakers, which were all the store had in her size. Flip-flops may not be ideal footwear for winter, but at least they're cute.

"You're still a vain-ass human disaster," he says, shaking his head. "Good to know some things don't change."

Doris stops the car suddenly and rolls her window open to catch the attention of a few teenagers shoving spray cans into their backpacks, ready to flee. "Yo, you kids wanna damage some city property?"

After the teenagers are done spraying the car to their heart's desire and kicking the light bar off the roof with great enthusiasm, Doris and Johnny move on in their camouflaged escape vehicle. She takes them through smaller streets, driving around suburbs and industrial areas, while listening to the police radio for updates. Johnny fills her in on everything that's happened during the past two years, like Troy being the Chief of police, how Julius' gone missing, and Benjamin King writing an autobiography. He also briefly mentions Dex, but shows reluctance in telling her more than that.

"You know, this is becomin' a habit," she says as she lights up another cigarette, fantasizing about going to buy a full pack, just so she can stuff as many as she can between her lips and smoke them all at the same time.

"Whatchu mean?"

"Savin' a damsel in distress. A damsel named Johnny Gat."

"Yo, shut up, man," he says, waving his hand her way. "Your ass wouldn't be sittin' there if I hadn't sacrificed myself to save you the first time."

" _Sacrificed_ yourself? All you sacrificed was your fuckin' knee by runnin' yo mouth!" She snorts. "Besides, we went after Tanya 'cause _you_ thought you could handle the bitch."

"Yeah, I could've if you'd been on the lookout, like you were supposed to be."

"Oh? Really? You tryna put the blame on me now?"

"Ain't my fault you fucked up."

"You know what? I'm gonna take you back and hand your ass over to the cops," she says and takes a sharp turn to head back into the city. "Have fun evadin' death row without me."

"Yo, you turn this ride back around right now!"

"Take back what you said!"

"Fine! I fucked up, not you!"

"Damn right." A victoriously smug smile lights up her face. "You hungry? I'm hungry."

"I ain't talkin' to you."

She clicks her tongue. "Aw, come on. You're so cranky you gotta be hungry. When was the last time you had Freckle Bitch's?"

"Two years ago."

"Well, shit. Same here, man. Let's go fine dinin'."

"You got cash?" He asks. Earlier that day Legal Lee asked him what he'd request for his last meal, _just in case, you know, we don't win the case_ , and Johnny naturally listed the Freckle Bitch's menu in whole.

Stopping at a red light, she looks around, spotting a wallet left behind the gearstick. She picks it up and waves it for him to see. "I do now."

"You know Troy's gonna man every Freckle Bitch's and strip joint in the city, right?"

"He ain't got that kinda resources."

"You sure about that?"

"Look," she says as she reaches to take a pair of pilot sunglasses on top of the dashboard, puts them on, and then pulls a hood over her head, "they'd definitely spot you, but not me. I'm a sneaky bitch. I'm also fuckin' starvin'. One way or another I'm gettin' us food."

 

* * *

 

"You know, we should really get another ride," Johnny says as she comes back with a big paper bag. There are already greasy stains forming on the sides of it. "This shitty piece of modern art draws way too much attention to us."

"Just shut up and eat, Gat," she says, diving into the bag with her hands to look for his soda and fries.

"Did you get me the Fist?"

"Yeah, here."

"Two pounds of flavor," he reads the words printed on the crinkly paper, then pauses before adding, "daddy's back."

" _Ay_ ," Doris sighs, shaking her head. "Please, don't say it like that."

"What'd you get?"

She holds up a large yellow cup with a lid and a straw. "I got a milkshake with every flavor they had."

"What are you? Seven?"

"Shut up," she says and sticks the straw between her lips to quench the two-year long thirst for milkshakes that occasionally pushed through to her unconscious mind in the form of hazy dreams. "This is fuckin' awful. I love it."

"I forgot you're a literal child," he says with his mouth full of food, as any adult with good manners would.

She shoves the cup in his face. "Here, taste it."

"No."

"It's awful! Taste it!"

He groans and grabs a hold of the straw to taste her ungodly creation, knowing she won't give up until he does. "The fuck is that salty taste?" He asks with a frown.

"It's bacon."

"Bacon milkshake?"

"This is America, Johnny."

"Havin' bacon milkshake in a stolen cop car after shootin' our way out of the courthouse does sound pretty patriotic," he admits with a nod.

"So, how'd they come up with that murder count, anyway?" She asks.

"What do ya mean?"

"Like, did you tell 'em yourself, like the dumbass showoff you are, or did Troy always run behind you and mark down every kill you landed in a notebook?"

Johnny starts laughing with soda in his mouth and he nearly chokes. "Fuck, you tryna kill me yourself?" He coughs out the words, hitting his chest with his fist. He's a little surprised over his own reaction, since he can't really recall the last time he, well, laughed.

"But I can see him do that," she says and laughs, too.

"When'd you wake?"

"Two days ago."

"How the hell are you walkin'?"

"What, like it's supposed to be hard?"

"Accordin' to Kill Bill, yeah," he says with a shrug of his shoulders.

She decides against breaking the mystery by telling him she went through hours of reminding her body how human legs and walking work. She couldn't have later escaped with the kid, Carlos, otherwise. Despite her being persistent, it was difficult and painful, and Johnny doesn't need to know about it. They're both better off with her changing the subject.

"So..."

"So."

"You're not surprised at all? Like, not even a teeny tiny bit?" She asks.

"About what?"

Doris throws him the first glare in years, once again totally unaware of how it makes Johnny smile when she turns her attention back to the rest of her chicken nuggets. "That I'm _alive_ , you absolute asshat."

He shrugs. "Nah."

"Un-fucking-believable."

"I knew you'd come save the day," he says. "You damn well know you owe me that much."

"But you thought I was—"

"I was aware of them lying about your death."

She blinks, surprised. "What? How?"

"We were in the same prison, Doe. How the fuck do you think?"

"Huh. You ruined my chance of makin' the coolest comeback anyone ever could."

"A two-year coma did nothin' to your whiny baby complex."

"You're a whiny baby," she mutters in a voice that, in fact, only bolsters his claim.

Johnny chuckles. She kicks his leg. Things feel normal. It's like she was never gone.

"What made ya think it'd be a good idea to steal a cop car, anyway?" He asks.

"It was the closest one, and some dumbass left the keyes in."

"Yeah, they sure ain't gonna notice they're missin' a ride, and they definitely won't put two and two together."

"Johnny, I slept for two fuckin' years," she says. "I need some excitement in my life. Besides, we didn't kill everyone. We only wounded most on our way out. They can't be that mad."

"Gotta admit, you're makin' some fair points." He laughs, unable to fall back into his broody behavior now that she got him started. He's happy she's awake, sitting there with him, looking as healthy as ever. She's alive. "But I'd still prefer not gettin' caught and shot on sight like a dumb bitch after fifteen minutes of freedom. I ain't going back."

"Oh, come on, you pussy. As if you don't enjoy the thrill of it. And it's been hours."

"Yeah," he says, stretching out his arms and legs. It's dark outside and the chatter about them on the police radio quieted down a while ago. "Suppose the road's clear."

"So, what now?"

"Take me to Eesh's. She's got a crib in Misty Lane."

"Okay, I guess my company ain't wanted," she says with her lips pursed as she starts up the car.

"Come on, it ain't like that," he says and shoves the trash off his lap. "But you know what's callin'."

She gives him a look of disapproval. "Don't you fuckin' dare say it again."

He chuckles. "Why?"

"Last time you did, I took your car. You sure you wanna know what I'll take now when you got no ride to steal?"

After they took Tanya out with King, Johnny left her without a ride back home, because he was in too much of a hurry to go get laid, and all she had were keys to King's car, which Tanya's body had trashed just minutes before. Adding that to Johnny taking all the damn credit for the jobs she did for him, and the fact that he was the biggest asshole she'd ever met, had her snap. She stole his car that night, kept it hidden in her brother's garage, patiently watching Johnny lashing out on people, throwing punches and threats all around to find his precious baby.

Taking his car out of the garage a few days later to drive it by the church was a difficult decision for Doris, as watching Johnny suffer amused her greatly, and she wasn't willing to let her well-earned joy end. Seeing his face turned out to be priceless, though. When Johnny started asking where she'd found his car, she just simply replied with 'Your car? I dunno what you're talkin' about, man, this is my car', then gracefully flipped him off and drove away.

That was also the first time a bunch of other members, besides Dex and Johnny, heard her talk, and they betted against her living to see the next day. A mini-war broke out between the two, but in the end the only collateral damage was done to property on both sides, as he never touched a hair on her head.

"Okay, alright," he says with his hands slightly raised. "Won't say it. Sensitive."

"Shut up, Gat," she snaps. "I'm gonna get you a jar where you gotta put a ten dollar bill every time you're a sexist prick. I'm gonna be rich in no time."

"Yo, I ain't _that_ bad. I respect women."

"Oh, then I must've somehow woken in another dimension where you never said _the pussy calls_ to my fuckin' face. Lucky me."

"You're — respectfully — the nastiest bitch I've ever met. Get over it."

The aggressively thrown cold fries hitting him in the face and the Spanish words yelled to accompany the creative ammunition shows him that she, in fact, has no intention of ever _getting over it_ , and that she's still as spiteful and fiery as he remembered, and most of all, that he'll live longer by never mentioning that damn line again.

 

 

* * *

 


	2. That I'll regret what I did

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should note Felipe and Marina are my other bosses. I wasn't sure about including both of them in the series, but they're Doe's family and pretty high up on the character importance scale, so they're gonna be appearing frequently. Also, I got SR2 for xbox (I already have the franchise for pc and playstation... I need to be stopped) and started my 5th playthrough with Doe and got inspiration for more scenes for this fic and, honestly, I have no idea how long this'll be right now. :'D

* * *

 

They keep bickering nearly the whole way to Aisha's house while Johnny gives her directions — bad ones, leading to more bickering. They make it to their destination, eventually, and he's about to exit the car when she speaks up about something that's been bothering her since he said it.

"What'd you mean by 'don't even let me get started with Dex?'"

He lets go of the door handle and turns to her. She doesn't look at him, just stares out through the windshield instead, clutching the wheel with both hands. He takes a few seconds to contemplate on whether she actually wants to hear it, or not. Still not sure, he decides on a counter question. "You didn't fix things with him before you got blown up, did you?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "I needed some time for myself." She needed some time, all right, but it was mainly for going over what happened between her and Johnny in one of Tee'N'Ay's bathroom stalls at her birthday party. And at King's old crib later that same night. Twice. "And I just didn't fuckin' know that last week was all the time I had left."

"You don't need to think about him now, Doe," he says. "You gotta go see your family. I'll tell you later."

"Okay." She chews on her lower lip, still staring straight ahead. "You, uh, didn't tell Aisha about—"

"Us hookin' up?" Johnny interrupts her, since she clearly sounds uncomfortable bringing it up. Assuming that's what she's on about, he kind of took a wild guess there, but seeing her made him think about that night. Fair to assume it crossed her mind, too. They didn't talk about it afterwards, but there's no reason to make the subject awkward, now. "No. Didn't see a reason to. You know we weren't together around that time."

"But you got back together later?"

Johnny stares at the house through the window. He can't tell her that it sort of happened the night she went to that fucking boat by herself. The night he should have been there with her. He still feels guilt stinging deep in his chest for it. "Yeah," he says quietly.

"Okay," she says, drumming her fingers on the wheel and looking the other way, pretending to be interested in whatever one of the neighbors is doing in their garage.

They sit quiet for a moment, until Johnny gives in to his infamous inability to keep his mouth shut when he should. "You know, I don't regret poundin' you all night long, _boss_."

Her eyebrows rise. She can still remember how hard he made her come by calling her that. She curls her toes around the plastic straps of her flip-flops. "You really shouldn't call me that," she says slowly, failing to sound convincing.

"Why not? Gotta call you somethin' if you gonna run this crew again."

"Then pick somethin' you haven't called me with your dick inside me."

"Come on," he says and leans in to nudge her arm with his own, "it can be our li'l thing."

"No!"

"You sure?"

She shoves him off, fingers grasping for his sleeve for a second to pull him right back in. "Yeah, I'm sure, you prick," she says as she pulls her hand back, instead, balling up her fingers into a tight fist.

"It was good, though." Fucking amazing, more like, the best he's ever had. But he can't say that now. He shouldn't. He settles for something a little less worshipping. "Best birthday sex I ever had."

Doris blinks and manages a chuckle. "It wasn't your birthday, dumbass," she says. It's been two years for him, but roughly a week for her. She doesn't have much trouble remembering that night. Vividly. It all came back to her the next day when she'd sobered up. She pretty much has to stop herself from jumping him. Telling him to stay. Just driving away with him and not looking back, to simply see what could happen.

She stares at her reflection on the rear-view mirror. The city's a mess, her hair's a mess, _everything's_ a mess, and being so close to Johnny makes it so much worse, so much messier. She decides it's best to just change the subject. "You don't happen to have a ride I could borrow?"

"You sure you didn't get brain damage? Remember what you did to my Venom?"

There it is. She just saved Johnny's ass from getting the chair, and yet he still can't stop himself from bringing up that fucking car. "Fine! I'll go with this one. Here's to hopin' Stilwater's Finest don't bust my ass."

"Can't you just steal another one?" He asks while gazing at a neighbor's driveway and the two expensive cars on it. "Lots of sweet rides around here."

"Nah, I'm going to Barrio, anyway. I'll drop the car by the shop there, let 'em have their Five-0 back. I'm fair like that."

"I'm sure they'll appreciate the new look," he says, chuckling. "Your family knows you're awake, right?"

"Yo, I barely had time for a beer before I had to run to save your ass." Blaming it on Johnny is better than facing the fact that she's scared shitless of finding out what happened to her family without her.

"Yo, quit bitchin'," he says. "Your brother's gonna piss himself when he sees you."

"Did you keep in touch with him?"

"Kinda, yeah. I'll tell you about it later." He has to dodge her question, because there's no need for them to get into the shitstorm that followed her death. He's not sure if Felipe ever forgave him, even though it was Johnny who told him about Doris being alive and how he found her in the prison's infirmary. "I should have a phone by tomorrow. I'll call you then. Think Felipe still got the landline?"

She shrugs. With Johnny not giving her any information on him, she has no idea if he even lives in the city anymore. "I dunno. It's probably best if I just come by tomorrow."

"Okay. Around six o'clock?"

"Yeah."

"Good. We need to get things rollin'." He gets out of the car, but leans down to talk to her through the open door. "And Doe?"

"Yeah?" She turns to glance at him. God, she doesn't want him to go.

"Thanks."

"Don't get all sentimental and weepy on me," she says. "You're still an asshole in my books."

He chuckles, lowering his head. "Right."

"See you tomorrow, Johnny."

"Good to have you back, Boss."

"You too, Robo-leg."

Johnny would never tell her, but that nickname was one of the things he missed in jail. Even if he used to fucking hate it, even if she used to call him that just to low-key spite him. Before he rings the doorbell, he watches her backing up the car out of the driveway, and then driving away in her reckless, speed-loving style, no doubt giving some heavy heart palpitations to a few suburban joggers. He grins to himself, wide, like any free man who just evaded a death sentence would. He hopes she knows on some level how much he's missed her.

 

* * *

 

Doris doesn't get very far before she's forced to pull over and park the car on a supermarket parking lot. Her body's killing her, legs stinging and burning, and her stomach hurts for eating solid, unhealthy food, and seeing Johnny and talking with him and sitting so damn close to him completely erased her capability of producing any rational thoughts.

She bangs her head to the wheel with a frustrated groan, hoping for the impact to knock some sense into her. She has bigger, more urgent things to worry about than her fucked up feelings for her best friend. If she weren't in a hurry to go see her brother, she'd go back to the house and throw a rock through one of the windows and flip Johnny off for messing up her mind like that. They slept together two years ago, he went back to his girlfriend, end of fucking story. No reason for her to lose her mind over it.

Her palms are sweaty when she stands in front of the door to her old apartment. The lights in the stairwell turned off long ago. She's lived with her brother since she was sixteen, and even though Felipe's three years older than her, she took care of him just as much. She patched him up when he got into fights, made sure their bills were paid each month after they spent almost three weeks without electricity, and took his laundry to the laundromat on the other side of the street before he ran out of clean clothes to wear. He always told her he didn't know where he'd be without her, and she agreed, which is why she feels so damn scared of finding out what did happen to him without her around. One thing's for sure; if he's dead, she's going to kill him.

She presses a finger to the doorbell and she closes her eyes and holds her breath. She hears nothing at first, then angry footsteps approaching within the apartment. The door opens and she braces herself, opening her eyes to see the person now in front of her. A man stands at the door and a dim light coming from behind him helps her with identifying him. His hair's different and he looks tired, messy, but it's him. It's her brother.

"Yo, you sure took your fuckin' time—" Felipe's words cut out as he realizes he's not talking to whoever was supposed to deliver him food half an hour ago. He stares at Doris, blinking, and he comes to a conclusion that he might have to cut down on all the pot he smokes, because he stopped praying for his sister to wake up and come back home a while back, as the odds of that ever happening dropped devastatingly low. He has trouble believing she's real.

She shrugs and smiles a little. "You know me."

"Why... are you wearin' flip-flops in January?"

"Where do you think I've been?" She scoffs. "I went on a holiday to get a break from dealin' with your dumb ass."

His brow knits together and his lip quivers, just like when they were kids, and there's no way he could ever put into words how much he's missed his sister being mean to him. He throws his arms around her and pulls her into a tight hug, crushing her lungs, as he begins sobbing into her shoulder.

"Oh, God, don't do this to me," Doris says, sighing, not at all ready for the burst of feelings he's throwing at her. Instead of listening to her, he sobs harder, and she smacks his arm. "I forbid you from showin' feelings."

"I can't believe you're really here," he says as he steps backwards into the apartment and pulls her down to the floor with him, his legs suddenly refusing to hold him up. "I thought they killed you."

"And we're fallin' to the floor," she says with another sigh, landing on a pair of shoes. She looks around at the entry. It's a mess and, clearly, her brother's a mess, too. Everything's a big, goddamn mess.

"I missed you so much," he sobs, hugging her even tighter.

"You're such a baby."

"You were dead!" He sounds upset and hurt, and she knows it's her fault for being as reckless as she was going to the boat alone that night. It's her fault her brother had to go through hell.

She wraps her arms around him, hugging him back. "I'm sorry," she whispers to him as she strokes his hair, trying her best to comfort him. He's always been much better dealing with feelings. Too good, in her opinion.

"No," he says into her shoulder, sounding angry, though he only feels so toward himself. "It was my fault. I was supposed to protect you, but I let you run with that fuckin' gang, even after the first time you nearly got yourself killed 'cause of them."

"Felipe, it wasn't their fault," she says. "It was all me. I made that decision. You should blame me."

He blinks off fresh tears, confused. She never takes the blame. "I should've stopped you from—"

"You couldn't have stopped me." She interrupts him, pulling back a little to give him a stern look. This is an argument he can't win. "You know what I'm like."

"Yeah," he sniffs, laughing a little, now, "stubborn as hell."

"Did you really think a little explosion would kill me? That you could get rid of me that easy?"

"It killed everyone else on that boat."

"They'd be alive if they'd sold their souls to the Devil, too," she says with a subtle, slightly devious grin.

Felipe cringes. "Don't say that." He does a quick sign of the cross, making her grin wider.

She loves being the blasphemous black sheep of the family, even if her family pretty much only consists of black sheep. She's the worst of them. Something to be proud of. "You know, this is some real shady shit," she says. "Hughes was gonna kill me."

He looks at her, frowning. "What?"

"Yeah, I went there 'cause I didn't think the old dude had the balls to pull somethin' like that at his own fundraiser. But then the boat blew up and, like, unless he kept a shitload of explosives below the deck, I really fuckin' doubt it was an accident."

"The press never wrote it off as an accident, but I know it was never really investigated further, either," he says.

"Shockin'."

"I started lookin' into it when I found out that they straight out fuckin' lied about your death. I couldn't get past this big-ass corporation, Ultor. I think they paid a lotta people to sweep the whole thing under the rug."

She purses her lips thoughtfully. It's the same corporation that kid, Carlos, talked about. They used to sell clothes, but now they've claimed her childhood neighborhood like a bunch of violent pimps. "You think it's them?"

"Most likely."

"Hughes wanted to get rid of gangs and change Stilwater, though," she says. "I don't see a motive for them to kill him if they held the same agenda."

"Yeah. You heard about Troy yet?"

"That he was an undercover cop and they made him the chief of police?" She asks with a scoff. She can't believe she never saw through Troy's bullshit. The guy acted weird, sure, but she never thought much of it. She liked him. "Oh, I heard, all right. Think he had somethin' to do with it?"

"That really came outta fuckin' nowhere. There's no trustin' him. At the very least, he knows somethin' about it."

"You know, he once lit up his cigarette with a pile of flaming corpses," she says. She stood further away from them when it happened, but she could still see the look Dex had on his face. It made her laugh. "Either he's a very fucked up cop, or an Oscar-worthy actor."

"Ultor tried to pay me silent while I looked for pretty much anyone to make a story out of all that shady shit around the explosion," he says. "After that, Troy came to see me. He apologized. Told me to just drop it and take the money."

"What'd you do?"

"I told him to go fuck himself."

"And?"

"He said he'd make sure you're safe."

"Why?"

"I don't know," he says and shrugs. "He didn't say and I didn't care. But I guess he kept that."

"Yeah. Guess he did." She leans her head against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. Trying to wrap her mind around everything that happened after the explosion is tiring. And despite of Johnny telling her not to, she's still thinking about Dex. If he's okay. If he ever thinks about her, too.

"I can't believe he used to come to our barbecue parties and drink beer with us and shit, like he wasn't a fuckin' cop," Felipe says, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Suppose that's the point of being undercover."

"He sold out the whole crew," he says, sounding irritated. "Well, except Marina and I."

"Neither of you were actual members, though," she reminds him. "Maybe he just didn't have the proof he needed to turn you two in, too."

"Would've been pretty fucked up if he sold out his own girlfriend," he says. Marina and Troy were an odd couple, the type no one thought would end up together. He doesn't get why Troy dated her, despite of knowing he would one day sell out the Saints. He doubts undercover cops get into relationships just for the show, but then again, what the hell does he know. Maybe they're required to do anything to succeed. Maybe Troy really wanted that promotion.

"Let's be real, she woulda been ecstatic about it and asked him to marry her," Doris says and chuckles. "How's Marina doing? She's not havin' that fling with him anymore, is she?"

"She's in Russia. Haven't seen her for over a year."

"What? Why?"

"I'm pretty sure it's best we don't know why," he says, making Doris nod in agreement. They both love Marina, but she's insane, and they know better than to get involved in her business. "She'll jump into the ocean and swim back the second she hears you're awake, though."

"I don't doubt that," she says with a small giggle. "Remember that Summer when she somehow convinced herself she could swim to Chicago, being all 'it is lake, how big can it be?'" She imitates their friend's thick accent.

Felipe laughs. "You gotta give it to her, though. She made it surprisingly far." She didn't make it quite down to Chicago, but if anyone asks, all three of them will lie about it.

"Yeah, until you had to jump in to save her from drownin', and she still insisted she was just restin' a little," she says, shaking her head. "Who the fuck rests with their head underwater?"

"You know, I miss her," he says and sighs. "I missed you."

"Stop sayin' that."

"I love you, too."

"Ugh."

"Listen," he says as he pulls back to see her face fully, "I promised Mom and I promised you that I'd take care of you. I let you both down. I won't do it ever again."

"Felipe?"

"Yeah?"

"How's Mo—"

"She's okay, don't worry about her," he hurries to say, realizing he should have started by telling her that, to save her from any unnecessary worrying. "She's gonna be so happy that you're awake. I'll call her first thing in the morning."

Doris closes her eyes and sighs inaudibly. The people who matter the most to her are all alive and well. As unbelievable as it seems, they were fine without her, but still she swears to herself she'll never leave them again. Felipe wraps his arm around her shoulders and plants a big kiss on top of her head. They sit on the floor for a while longer, both quiet, but grateful. She's glad to be home.

 

* * *

 


	3. How you snuck your way into my arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Just wanna say thanks for the kudos and comments on my works :) I have a few weeks of vacation left and I'm gonna try to write as much as I can.

* * *

 

Waking up to her dog licking her face and her brother bringing her his special gummy bear pancakes and a bunch of presents to bed to celebrate the two birthdays she missed out on, puts Doris in a much better mood. Her body still aches, but less than yesterday. She spends hours fussing over her dog, how big he's grown since she last saw him, how he still remembers her, and how unbelievably adorable he is. It breaks her heart to leave him home later, to hear him whining after her, but she's going to Aisha's house, and she doesn't know if animals are allowed there. Normally, she wouldn't even care, but now, she just wants to get through the reunion she's not looking that much forward to as quickly as possible, without adding any complications to it from her side.

When Johnny opens the door for her, she looks more like herself with lipstick, fake lashes and nails, jewelry, and her curly hair resting over her shoulders in two loose braids. She's a little more appropriately dressed for the weather with a puffy fur coat, even if she's wearing a mini skirt underneath, and boots with heels. She never had trouble getting stuff done in similar outfits, though, and fighting their way later through rubble, a few Samedis and aggressive homeless people doesn't turn out to be an exception. In fact, she has a lot of fun that night swinging her old baseball bat around and watching Johnny stab people. She quickly forgets how awkward she felt sitting on Aisha's couch, drinking beer and acting normal, like her thoughts and feelings still aren't a huge-ass mess. She's excited about clearing out a hideout for them, for the Saints, even if it is _a kind of a shithole_.

Three days, a dozen canonizations and one invigorating, borrowed speech later the hideout's been cleared out from corpses, rubble and filth by the new members. They've brought in all kinds of old furniture, music, drinks and snacks to make the place more cozy, and they're using portable generators for electricity. Doris has three new lieutenants and they're sitting around a desk found under the rubble in her soon-to-be office. She called Johnny and her lieutenants in to go through what she expects from them in depth, but she's busy baby-talking her dog like there's nobody else in the room.

" _Ay, te quiero, mi pequeño niño_ ," she coos lovingly, planting kisses on his head. " _Sí, te quiero mucho_."

"Can you stop smoochin' the dog?" Johnny asks, annoyed as always.

"He has a name," she says, throwing him a glare.

Johnny sighs. "Chico." He realizes his mistake the second the dog's head springs up, green eyes staring at him for a few seconds before he launches Johnny's way, knocking an empty chair over on his way. "Yo, I ain't gonna cuddle you. Go back to yo momma," Johnny says as Chico lifts his front paws onto his lap, attempting to lick his face to let him know he never forgot him for the second time that day. Johnny tells him to stop, but Chico's determined to get fully onto his lap, like when he was a puppy. "You're way too big for this!" Johnny grunts, but the dog doesn't care. He's way too happy about having another familiar human back in his life.

"Don't be mean to my baby," Doris says, keeping her giggles to herself. She wouldn't let Chico run people over like that, but that rule doesn't apply to Johnny. When her dog was still a puppy, and whenever Johnny was in a bad mood, she would pick Chico up to let him lick Johnny's face until he stopped sulking. "He missed you."

"He's so cute," Shaundi says in a soft voice. She sits on a chair next to Johnny and she pets the dog's back, getting her arm whipped by his wagging tail.

"You're ruinin' my reputation here, buddy," Johnny says to Chico quietly, but the dog just happily licks his cheek and settles down on his lap for scratches.

"Okay, so," Doris says finally, pulling her chair up closer to the desk, "I only expect four things from all of you. First, you do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it. Second, I showed you I ain't fuckin' around, but you're still gonna have to earn my trust and respect. Now, Gat here knows that ain't easy, but I'm givin' you all a chance. Don't blow it. Third, honesty. That really goes without sayin' and I shouldn't have to explain it further. Fourth, you're all out there representin' the Saints, at all times. If you feel somethin' ain't right, talk to me about it. If you ain't sure about how to do somethin', or if you should do it at all, ask me. And if you can't reach me with an urgent matter, call Gat."

"Yo, just don't call me in the middle of the night if it ain't a real emergency, or you're in for a big fuckin' surprise when I show up behind your door," Johnny says. He has his legs spread apart to keep Chico from falling off, and right that moment, he's not scaring anyone.

"That's it, that's all I ask," Doris says, half-ignoring Johnny and how cute he looks with her dog. "I won't lie, this shit's gonna get ugly. Uglier than before. You were all in Stilwater when that shit went down, so you know what it was like. You know what you're in for. This is your last chance to back down."

"I'm totally fine with all that," Carlos says. He sounds enthusiastic. "I won't let you down."

"Yeah, bring it on," Pierce says. "I can't wait to fuck up the Ronin."

"Good," Doris says, nodding. "For now, you'll be recruitin' and workin' on your assigned crew. Later you get to delegate your work down to other people however you like. Every new member gets a background check after they been canonized, and they all go through me," she says as she points at herself. "We need a crew, but I ain't gonna let just any shady bitch in only to realize later on that I've been fucked over by an undercover cop, or a member of a rival crew. If someone seems too clean, they're out. I want people who know what the fuck they doing, people you trust. If someone under you turns on us, you're in some pretty deep shit yourselves. This ain't a fuckin' game, okay?"

"Got it," Pierce says and the others nod in agreement.

"We'll be havin' these meetings every Tuesday, so if you've managed to fuck somethin' up durin' the weekend, you still have Monday to fix your shit," Doris continues. "I'm expectin' to hear good news from you, so keep that in mind."

"Sounds fair," Shaundi says.

"Fair's my middle name," Doris responds with her best modest smile. She notices how Johnny's eyebrows rise and she's surprised he doesn't call her out on her obvious lie. "You got any questions?"

They shake their heads, all except for Johnny.

"I got one," he says. "What the hell has Felipe fed your dog?"

"Yo, don't question my boy's diet, that's insensitive," she says, throwing another glare Johnny's way. "Anyway, talkin' about my brother, he and his crew are throwin' me a party at El Hombre on Friday and I wanna see you all there," she says as she swipes her finger around in the air to include everyone in the circle she draws.

"Sounds like fun," Shaundi says. "I've been meaning to check that place out."

"Yeah, you can count me in," Pierce says after checking the calendar on his phone, as if he'd have the guts to say no, whether or not he has other things planned for that night.

"It's that bar in Barrio, right?" Carlos asks.

Doris nods. "Yeah."

"Man, that's my favorite place!"

"You live nearby?"

"A few blocks away, yeah."

"The Brotherhood been givin' you shit?"

"Not much," he says. "But the local businesses can't handle much more. We need to do somethin' about it."

"Don't worry, Carlos," she says. "We gonna kick 'em the fuck outta there. I'm already tired of seein' all that red on my streets. Assholes couldn't even come up with any other color, as if they took over the Carnales."

"You been eatin' those fuckers for breakfast, haven't you?" Johnny asks Chico, receiving a happy bark as an answer. "That's how you got so big."

"You wanna come by, too, Johnny?" Doris asks. "To the party?"

"Sure," he says with a nod, "I'll be there."

She turns to him with her eyebrows up. "Really?" She asks, feeling the need to double check. The Saints used to have a lot of parties, but he rarely attended them, until they grew closer and she started dragging him along. Sometimes Johnny takes the definition of anti-social to a whole other level. He prefers to get drunk at home, by himself, moping around like an old, grumpy man. She finds it adorable.

He shrugs. "Someone gotta make sure you don't drink yourself into another coma."

"Oh, I'm gonna drink myself to death, wake up in the morgue and go straight back to partyin', just watch me," she says. She has two years worth of drinking, hoeing, and other general sinning to catch up on, and once they have things up and running, she's going to have the time of her life.

 

* * *

 

" _What the fuck do you want?_ "

Doris pulls her legs closer to her chest. Johnny sounds mad and she doesn't blame him. She's calling him in the middle of the night, doing the exact thing he forbid the others from doing only yesterday. She hesitates, opening her mouth and closing it, thinking about hanging up and dealing with her problems on her own, like she's always done.

" _Yo, you there? Why you callin' me so late?_ " He asks, waiting for an explanation. He leaves the sound on at night for emergencies, but he dropped her home just a few hours ago, and everything was fine then.

"I, uh..." She trails off. Her heart slams against her ribs and there's no room in her head for thoughts, other than the desperate need to run, to get away.

" _Doe? You okay?_ " He asks in a different tone. He sounds more worried than angry, now.

"It's all comin' back to me," she says in a choked voice.

" _What is?_ "

"The explosion."

" _Oh._ "

"It's hard to breathe. I haven't felt like this since..." She trails off again as she reminds herself that Johnny doesn't know about her past, and that she's better off not bringing all that shit up, since it's hard enough already dealing with the flashbacks currently filling her mind.

" _Is Felipe home?_ " He asks.

"No, he's comin' back for the party."

" _Okay,_ " he says, and she can hear sounds of him getting out of bed, " _I'm comin' over._ "

"No, don't," she hurries to say. "Just... go back to sleep." She shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She wanted to call him, he's the only person she wanted to call, but should he be the one she calls at two in the morning when she feels like the world's falling apart around her?

" _I'm already up. Might as well go for a drive._ " He pauses to put a shirt on. " _You hungry?_ "

"I don't know."

" _Want me to bring you Chicken Bazooms and Twizzlers?_ "

"Kitkats."

" _Chicken Bazooms and Kitkats. Got it._ "

"You really shouldn't come."

" _It's fine, Doe,_ " he says as he walks down the stairs. " _Just sit tight and watch TV, or somethin'. I won't take long._ "

"Okay."

" _You got coke?_ " He asks.

"Yeah?"

" _Don't do any. That'll make it worse._ "

She sniffs. She did do a line earlier, as she didn't know what else to do, and that _did_ make it worse. "Okay."

" _I'll be there in twenty._ "

"Bye, Johnny."

" _See ya soon._ "

 

* * *

 

The second Doris opens the door for Johnny, she lunges herself right at him, clutching to his shirt and hiding her face in it. She's one wrong thought away from bursting into tears. She's not entirely sure what's real and she desperately needs to hang onto something, that something being Johnny.

"Yo, Doe," he says after shaking off the surprise, a little awkwardly patting her on the back, "you gonna be okay."

She shakes her head, but she lets go of his shirt and turns around to drag herself back to the living room. Johnny follows her. The apartment's completely dark. He kicks his shoes off and turns a light on in the kitchen. Then he moves to the living room, places a bag of food on the coffee table and sits down on the couch. Doris sits on the other end, wrapped up in a blanket.

"Take this," he says as he pulls out a bottle of pills from the pocket of his jacket, pops the cap off and offers her one.

"What are they?"

"Just mild sedatives."

She takes the whole bottle from him, downs a small handful of pills into her mouth and washes them down with soda. She doesn't care where he got them from. She just wants the panic to leave her and never come back. Johnny hands her the chocolate bars he brought for her and she eats one quietly in the corner of the couch. He removes his jacket and drops it on the armrest. Chico shows up from Doris' room to greet Johnny. He's sleepy, but his tail still wags excitedly. He lays his head on Johnny's knee for scratches after curiously sniffing at the bag of food.

"Feelin' any better?" Johnny asks after she's done with her chocolate bar. He's petting Chico's head and the dog's making soft noises of approval.

"A little," she says quietly, nodding. "Thanks."

"You wanna talk, or watch somethin', or just eat?"

She gives him a weak shrug. She's rolling the crinkly wrapper into a ball between her fingers. "I don't know. You decide."

He gives some thought to what to suggest. She looks miserable. It needs to be something that cheers her up. "You wanna watch Mean Girls?"

"Yeah."

He gets up and heads to the television stand to go through their DVD collection, hoping they still have it, and after a little rummaging around he finds the right case. After they started hanging out more, he had to watch the movie with her seventeen times, and even though he found the characters hilarious, he complained about it every single time. She knew he liked it, but she still acted like she made him watch it over and over again purely out of spite.

She doesn't want to eat at first, but after Johnny patiently asks her a few times, she eats half of her chicken nuggets. She feels drowsy and light from the pills, and her eyes still burn a little. They're half-way through the movie when she starts talking.

"Can you, like, punch me 'til I can't remember anymore?" She asks. She's lying on the couch with her body curled up into a ball, still wrapped up tight in the blanket. Her arm hangs over the edge of the couch and she's holding Chico's paw in her hand.

Johnny rests his jaw on his hand while staring at the movie. "You gotta talk about it," he says.

"It didn't help before."

"Before?"

"When I stopped talkin'."

He glances at her, now. He still doesn't know why she didn't talk when she first joined the Saints. He wants to find out, but using her current state to do so would be a dick move. "Maybe you didn't talk to the right person," he says.

"Maybe."

"What do you remember?"

She sighs deep as she pushes herself up to sit. She leans the back of her head on the backrest, staring up at the ceiling. "The pain. I remember that. And the smell of the water and gasoline and blood. It's stuck in my nose."

"What else?"

"I couldn't hear anythin' at first. Half of my face just burned. Then the silence turned into this loud fuckin' ringing in my ears and I started to hear screams. I tried to swim, but there was somethin' sharp stickin' out of my ribs and leg. Just shards of metal, or glass, or maybe my bones."

"What happened? Did you get to the shore?"

"I don't know what happened. Can't remember." She pauses, turning her head to stare the other way at nothing. She's never felt so unreal in her life. "I think I maybe died."

"You ain't dead, Doe," he says. "You're alive. You survived."

"I don't feel like I did. I'm still there."

"Listen," he says as he grabs a hold of her arm to get her attention. "You feel that? This is real. I'm real and you're here with me. Everythin' else is bullshit."

She stares at his fingers around her arm. She can feel his touch and hear his voice through the fog separating her from the real world. It's calming. Makes her feel like she's safe with him. "Okay," she says softly.

"If you start feelin' like this ain't real, just tell me," he says, gently squeezing her arm before letting go. "I'll slap it right outta you."

"How are you so good at this?"

"My little sister gets anxious easy," he explains. "She's been havin' panic attacks for years."

"Grace?" She asks and he nods. "Jesus, that sucks. I can't imagine dealin' with this shit for years."

"She's better these days," he says. "She'll be okay."

"Oh!" Doris jumps up a little on the couch as she remembers she hasn't even asked Johnny about his family yet. She's been too focused on bringing the crew back and keeping her head together. "How's your family?"

"They're good. Jenn had another kid. A girl this time."

"No way!" The first time she met them, Johnny's oldest sister, Jennifer, had two sons. His family always made her feel welcome. She really likes them. "How's your mom?"

"I, uh, don't know," he says, shrugging. "She won't talk to me."

Doris blinks, confused. "Why?"

"Suppose she's disappointed."

"You wanna borrow my mom?" She sounds high, but it doesn't make her any less serious about what she asks. "She's an angel, but she can whoop some serious ass. She'd like you."

"Yeah? Where's your mom?" He asks.

"Not in Stilwater. We gotta drive to see her."

"To where?"

She turns her head on the backrest to glance at him, pursing her lips in a somewhat playful manner. The pills are clearly helping. "It's a family secret," she whispers.

"You took too many pills, ya dumbass," he whispers back at her and turns his attention back to the movie.

She watches him instead of the television. There's something different about him. He's more serious, colder in a way, like the past two years were much harder on him than he lets on. "Johnny?" She asks after a little while of studying his profile.

"Yeah?"

"What was jail like?"

"Fuckin' peachy." He shifts in his place. It's not a pleasant topic.

"Why didn't you just break out? Why did you stay there for two years and let them take you to court?"

"What do you wanna hear?"

"The truth, stupid."

"I don't know, Doe," he says, still staring at the television, avoiding her gaze. How's he supposed to tell her that he felt too guilty at the start to even think about breaking out, and that when he finally found her at the infirmary, he couldn't leave her there alone? That he had to stay and make sure she was safe, hoping, damn near praying she would one day beat the odds and wake from the coma?

"Okay, fair enough." Maybe he knows, but doesn't want to share, or maybe he has no clue. She chooses not to press him on it further. After all, she didn't answer his question about her mother, either. She isn't ready yet. "But at least tell me somethin' about jail."

"Well, I sold pruno with Shaundi," he says.

"For real?" She sounds amused.

"Yeah."

"Who made it?"

"She did. Quality stuff."

"You beat people into buyin' it, didn't you?"

"Yep," he says with a small nod.

She giggles. "Wish I were there. You know, awake."

"You didn't miss much," he says. "It wasn't that great."

"Well, it woulda been fuckin' awesome with me," she says as she rolls her eyes for having to state something so obvious out loud.

He chuckles quietly. The thing that kept him going was knowing that she was there, in the building, alive. "Yeah."

"When'd you meet Shaundi?"

"About four months in. She offered partnership for protection. Smart girl."

"And Pierce?"

"He was already there when I got there, but it took a few months 'til I met him."

"Why?"

"They kept me in the hole for the first three months. Guess I rubbed someone off the wrong way."

She turns to him, frowning, thinking she might have heard him wrong. "For three months?"

"Yeah."

"But isn't the hole, like—"

"No contact with other inmates. They let you go out for an hour a day, if they feel like it. Gives you a lotta time to think about shit."

She blinks. She feels bad for him. She feels actual, genuine sympathy for what he went through while she napped, or at least that's what she thinks it is. Could also be that she's high. Either way, it makes her clutch herself to his side — arms wrapped around his body and head resting on his shoulder. He's warm and real, and she doesn't want to let go for the rest of the night.

Johnny's just as baffled as she is. He freezes for a moment, unsure of how to react. She's been overly touchy that night. He's never seen her so upset before, so he figures it might be normal for her to seek out that type of intimacy for comfort. He lets his arm fall loosely around her.

She snuggles in a little closer. "I'm glad I saved your ass in time," she says into his shirt.

"Yeah," he says, his body relaxing back into a comfortable slouch. "Me too."

"I'm not sure what I'd do if I hadn't."

The movie ends and they switch to watching a marathon of a crime drama. She falls asleep on the couch next to him and he stays awake to make sure she sleeps peacefully through the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 


	4. And nothing else matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I've been sick 3 times since I moved last month, but I managed to edit a chapter for posting, just in time for the first day of 2019 :') I got some lovely comments while I was sick, so thank you for them! This chapter is longer than others to make up for taking so long to update. Next up will be chapter 2 of Rule #2, or one of the billion oneshots I have waiting in my drafts (including one about Johnny's nickname in this chapter). Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas! Happy New Year!

 

* * *

 

"You know what'll cheer you up?" Johnny asks the next day after finishing his second cup of black coffee. "I got just the thing."

Doris is still drowsy from the pills he gave her. She's laying her head on the kitchen table, blindly scooping sugar into her cup with a spoon, until Johnny snatches the sugar out of her reach. She drops the spoon into her coffee, spilling some on the table, and tucks her arm under her head. "What's that?" She asks with a yawn.

"Guns."

She wiggles her nose and nods approvingly. "Guns do cheer me up."

"I know a guy who sells 'em," he says. "We cut a deal with him and get started."

She turns her head to glance at him, now, showing mild interest. "Is this just a one time deal, or is he a potential supplier?"

"Dunno yet," he says as he gets up to fill his cup. "Let's check out what he got first before we go makin' any decisions."

"We ain't got the money, though."

"Yo, lemme worry about that."

"It's not Aisha's money, right?"

He snorts into his fresh cup of coffee. "Yeah, like she gonna buy us guns."

She turns to glance at him again, and she gives him a scolding look, going for the last option. "Did you ask your grandma for money, Ji-hoon?"

He manages to keep a straight face, despite of a small smile tugging up the corners of his lips over the fact that she still remembers his Korean name. Aside from his family, nobody calls him that. Nobody knows that name. "I asked her to pass me the kimchi yesterday and she dropped the fuckin' bowl on my fingers," he says, sitting back down. "I know she did it on purpose. And it was a heavy-ass bowl."

"Very passive-aggressive," she says, pursing her lips playfully. She kind of wants to grab his hand and kiss his fingers better. "Does this mean you ain't her favorite no more?"

"I guess."

She hides her mouth behind her arm and smiles at him almost pouting. "Who'd you rob to get the money, then?"

"I told you," he says, "just let me worry about that."

"A'ight, fine," she says, shrugging, finally straightening up enough to chug down half of the sickeningly sweet coffee in her cup. Knowing him, it's probably something she's going to get pissed off about, but she can do that later. Providing the crew with guns is one major issue off her list.

"I made some inquiries yesterday," he says. "He should have everythin' we need. All I gotta do is call him and set up a meetin'."

"You've been busy."

"I'm achin' to get to murderin'."

She purses her lips again as she leans her cheek to her hand, tilting her head. "You're just so cute when you wanna kill people, J-Ho," she says in an overly cute voice, managing to reach her arm out to pinch his cheek.

"Yo, you gonna make me blush," he says, making her giggle. For that, he lets her off for calling him by the nickname she instantly came up with when she heard his Korean name for the first time. He would gruesomely murder anyone else calling him that, which she's well aware of, and he's surprised she's never said it in a situation where someone else could have heard it. As annoying as the nickname is, it's their thing, and he likes that.

 

* * *

 

Johnny sinks into a slouch on the passenger seat. They emptied a full pot of coffee, but instead of giving him the energy he was looking for after staying up all night, he only got his heart palpitating uncomfortably. Doris wanted to drive, she always does, and they usually fight about it, but now he welcomes the chance to nap for the next thirty minutes. With the car still chilly, he crosses his arms over his chest and tucks his hands under his armpits, closing his eyes. She hums quietly next to him to a song on the radio. He's missed the sound of all the rings on her fingers tapping against the wheel as she steers it. After a few songs, he gives up on napping, and he pulls out a pack of cigarettes, instead, and sets one between his lips.

"Don't smoke in the car with the baby in the back," Doris says as she slaps his arm to stop him from lighting the cigarette. After Johnny set up a meeting for them, she took a bath, got dressed up, and did her make-up and hair. He didn't complain about how long she took getting ready, which was unexpected, but nice, though still not enough to keep her from nagging at him.

Johnny glances at the rear-view mirror to see the eighty-pound pit bull sitting on the back seat. He's wearing a fluffy hat and a pink sweater, and he looks ridiculously cute. "That's your dog," Johnny says with a frown, since she's clearly in need of a reminder of some cold hard facts.

"He's my son, you bitch," Doris says as she throws him a glare, sounding offended both for herself and for Chico. "We've been over this before and he's your son, too, so you better treat him like one."

"I ain't no baby daddy."

"You take that back and tell him you love him!"

"No."

She slaps his arm again, but he slaps her back this time, and they start fighting each other at a red light. Chico interrupts them by sticking his head between them and licking Johnny's cheek, and the second Johnny tells him to cut it out, he takes it as an invitation to try and move to the front to sit on Johnny's lap, which emits a short chaos. The light turns green, but Doris is busy trying to push her dog's butt out of the way and yelling in Spanish at the _insufferable asshole_ honking in the car behind them. She rolls her window down to point a gun at the honker, not at all in the mood to take shit from anyone, never mind strangers in the traffic, and it takes her about three seconds to get rid of them. Johnny chuckles at her total lack of respect for laws about intimidation and carrying weapons in public.

"You stay here, sweetheart," Doris says to her dog wagging his tail on the back seat ten minutes later as she parks her car at a junkyard. "We wouldn't want anythin' bad happenin' to you, now, would we?" She continues in a soft tone and Chico gives her a short, happy bark.

"God forbid you take your guard dog with you," Johnny comments sarcastically.

"I'll leave the heatin' on for you, and you can sit on my seat and warm up your li'l butt, okay?" She asks, ignoring Johnny. Then she turns to face Chico. "Gimme a kiss."

Johnny sighs deep as he gets out of the car and shuts the door behind him, too impatient to sit around watching Doris get her face all sloppy. He stretches and cracks his stiff shoulder, which Doris used as a pillow for a couple of hours, slowly checking out the surrounding area for anything suspicious. The man they're about to deal with, Rizzo, stands behind his car parked fifty yards from them, huddled over an open trunk. There's a big, bulky guy leaning against the side of the car with his arms crossed over his chest, smoking and looking bored.

Once Doris is out of the car, she bends over to make kissy faces at Chico behind the window. He responds by trying to lick her face through the window and she giggles over how adorable he looks. She straightens up to get a better look around when she notices Johnny walking away. The junkyard is big, surrounded by warehouses and an abandoned factory, perfect for illegal business to take place at. The muddy ground, on the other hand, is not that great for her high heels. She frowns and sighs, annoyed, but she follows Johnny to the men waiting for them. She'd much rather be in bed right now.

"Gat, my friend!" Rizzo says, opening up his arms. He has an accent and a tacky fedora. "You made it out! I'm so happy to see you!"

"Yo, you sure about that?" Johnny asks, sounding more pissed off than usually. "I mean, you did order that hit on me inside."

"Yes, about that," Rizzo sounds a little nervous as he scratches the back of his neck, "you understand it was only business, right? Nothing personal. You know how it is."

Johnny cocks an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Please, don't be like this," he says, his voice quickly taking a coaxing turn, as he sees from Johnny's body language, that he's not about to attack him. "We're both free men! Now we do different business! No hard feelings, eh?"

"Whatever, man," Johnny says, crossing his arms over his chest. The frown on his face is deep and irritated. "Like I said on the phone, I'm expectin' quality stuff, reliable weapons — not some cheap shit made in China."

"Of course! Only the best for you, my friend!" Rizzo says as he takes a risk and pats Johnny's shoulder to show friendliness. Then his attention turns to Doris and the slow sway of her hips, her presence conspicuous once she stands beside Johnny. "But where are my manners? Who's this lovely lady with you?"

"Miss Cooper's your client," Johnny says before Doris has a chance to introduce herself. She's wearing big, black sunglasses, a faux fur coat and a lot of jewelry, making her look like a rich, mysterious client looking for firepower, and Johnny's trusting a little roleplay to lift her mood. After all, she's in her element hoaxing people, even if it's not exactly needed in this case.

She holds back an amused smile, instantly molding into the role she's been assigned as she picks a suitable option from her list of characters to play. She straightens her posture, stepping closer to Rizzo.

"I'm so very pleased to meet you," Rizzo says as he takes his hat off. His dark brown hair is greying from the sides.

"Well, honey, you should be," she says in a Southern accent as she offers him her hand. Her voice is softer, higher, and her confidence pushes through attractive.

He laughs as he takes her hand into his, bending down to kiss the back of it. "Had I known I would be blessed with your beautiful presence today, I would've picked a meeting spot more suitable for a lady like you. I apologize for that."

"I reckon you'll be more considerate in the future, should we do more business together."

"Yes, of course!" Rizzo says, nodding. "Now, you must be anxious to see what I have to offer."

"Sure, what have ya got for me?" She asks as she pulls a thin stick of pink chewing gum out of her purse, popping it into her mouth. She always has at least one irritating factor to each one of her characters, and chewing on gum obnoxiously loud is Cooper's negative trait.

"Right this way, miss." Rizzo leads them to the back of his car. He pops the trunk open and pulls out custom built shelves, extending them on both sides as rows of LED lights turn on to showcase them an impressive collection of weapons. "Pistols, revolvers, shotguns, and rifles of all types," he says, stepping to the side. "Single shot, semi-automatic and full auto. Whatever you're in the market for, I can deliver. Weapons of mass destruction not included."

Doris clicks her tongue. "And here I was, hoping to invade a country."

"This all you brought?" Johnny asks.

"The rest are in the van, just like we discussed," Rizzo says, pointing to a big van down the road by a gate. "Is there a war starting I don't know about?"

"You can never have enough guns," Doris says as she blows the gum into a bubble until it pops. "That's what my daddy always said." It's something her father really used to say. Putting parts of herself into her characters makes them feel more real.

"Sounds like a smart man, your father," Rizzo notes. "So, what brings you up North? Assuming you don't live here."

"Well, I was visitin' Detroit on business when I saw dear old Johnny on the news, so I figured why not pay him a li'l visit to take a trip down memory lane, if ya know what I mean," she says as she lets her sunglasses fall down the bridge of her nose, winking at Johnny, and reaching closer to him to give his bottom a slap and a firm squeeze. Then she laughs in a way that sounds nothing like her. "Y'all seen the guns on this man? I'd love to take him back home with me and watch him work at the ranch all day long," she says, stretching the last three words, as she leans against the car to purse her lips at Johnny.

He gives her a short, expressionless glance, keeping up his poker face, before he picks up a shotgun and walks away to shoot at a row of bottles Rizzo's bodyguard set up while they were talking.

"Wish you'd handle me like you handle that shotgun," Doris says, twirling a strand of pink hair around her finger, when Johnny pauses to load. She doesn't see him grinning a little to himself.

"I think women should be handled delicately," Rizzo says.

She turns to him. "You got a wife, Rizzo?"

"An ex-wife."

"I figured as much," she says with a subtle, telling grin.

"Tongue as sharp as a razor," Rizzo says, laughing. "I like you more and more."

"Does this come in pink?" She asks, holding up a small submachine gun.

"I'll have to check that out for you," Rizzo says, snapping his fingers at his bodyguard, who pulls out a phone, "but I'm sure we can find something that works for you."

"Great." She eyes the gun for a bit longer before setting it down. "Gat," she says as she spins around to sit down on the side of the trunk, throwing one leg over the other, revealing a strategical amount of thigh, "you pleased with the quality?"

"Seems good," Johnny says as he walks back to the car. He can't help giving her legs a quick glance. "It ain't prime, but we'll make do."

"What do ya suggest I should do?"

"Think it'd be wise to take the whole stock," he says, putting down the shotgun to pick up another weapon. "You're gonna need 'em."

"Yes!" Rizzo agrees. "The van is packed full and I'm willing to part with everything for the right price."

"Well, mister Rizzo," Doris says with a mesmerizing smile, "looks like you about to get yourself a deal."

"Wonderful!" Rizzo grins wide, clapping his hands together, before offering his right hand to shake hers. "Happy to do business with you, miss Cooper."

"Likewise."

"Now, let's talk numbers, yes?"

Johnny manages to test every type of firearm Rizzo has to offer, and run out of things to shoot at, while Doris takes over half an hour negotiating, manipulating and borderline threatening Rizzo into giving in to a deal that pleases her, all the while staying in character. The man keeps laughing through it, though, complimenting her on her untamed spirit and determination, because that's how good she is at choosing her words, and reading people and getting under their skin. He turns out to be someone she could handle in her sleep.

"I'm so glad we managed to put our differences aside, Gat," Rizzo says after they're done negotiating.

"Yeah, about that," Johnny says as he points the pistol he's holding at Rizzo and shoots him straight between the eyes. The man falls face first to the muddy ground and he doesn't move after that. His bodyguard reacts too slow and Johnny fills his chest with more bullets than necessary.

Doris stares at Rizzo's body at her feet for a second, checking she didn't get any blood on her shoes, and she turns to glance at Johnny with a casual, "Didn't feel like payin'?"

"Nah, didn't feel like forgivin'," he replies. "But, hey, guess we ain't gotta pay now, either."

"So, I just spent, like, forty minutes gettin' us the sweetest possible deal for nothin'?" She crosses her arms over her chest. "Bitch, why didn't you just shoot him right away!"

"'Cause I know how you like to bring men to their knees and humiliate them," he explains.

She purses her lips at him. She did cut the bulk price nearly down to half, just to make Rizzo squirm in his cheap suit. "Fine," she steps on Rizzo's back as she hops off the trunk, "it was fun."

"See?"

"You think no one's gonna miss him, though?" She asks while helping Johnny put the guns back in the trunk. "People like him always got debts to pay, and shit."

"Told him to keep this off the record. Wasn't really as bright a guy as I thought."

"As if they ever are, Johnny."

"I'll call some of the boys to help stash the bodies, and then I'll drive the van to the hideout," he says as he slams the trunk shut and pulls his phone out. "Meet you there?"

" _Vale_ ," she replies as she blows him a kiss over her shoulder, heading back to her car. The Johnny she knew from two years back wouldn't have let her off the crime scene cleaning duty so easy. Even if it probably has everything to do with her meltdown last night, she likes him being considerate. "See ya later, babe!"

 

* * *

 

That night they hang around at the hideout, revamping the place, drinking beer, chatting and canonizing a few fresh guys, but only after handing out the new guns to the crew like presents on Christmas Day. Inspired by that, and despite of it already being January, some of the members stack up empty bottles into the form of a Christmas tree, wrapping a stolen string of lights around it, and moving the heavy boxes filled with guns and ammunition next to it. There's a bonfire burning in a hole on the floor, warming up the lobby of the old hotel, and couches and chairs placed into a ring around it. People sit on empty bottle crates, on the stairs and the counters — wherever that isn't the chilly stone floor. There's an old radio playing music and ads from Generation X, drowning under the loud chatter and laughter filling up the lobby.

Doris sits with Johnny on an ugly, old, green couch, and she doesn't mind having to scoop up flat against his side when he makes room for Shaundi and Pierce. He has his arm on the backrest behind her and she has her legs hanging over the armrest, leaning her back to his side. After last night, she feels a little more close to him, and therefore more comfortable being close to him like that on a physical level, too, even if it brings up the confusion she felt after busting him out of the courthouse.

"Whatchu thinkin' about?" He asks her, nudging at her shoulder to get her attention.

"This is good," she says, her voice soft.

"What is?"

"Just this moment."

He looks around and nods. Her hair faintly smells like coconut from the bath she took earlier. She still uses the same hair products and he realizes how much he's missed that specific scent. Back in jail, before he found out she was alive, he would lie awake at night trying to remember things about her; the features of her face, her voice and the tones of it, the smell of flowers in her apartment, what she sounded like singing annoying pop songs from the nineties when she thought she was alone at the church, and the way she smiled when she put out her cigarette on his wrist without a warning. It was all so easy to forget. As time went by, the memory of her became blurry, just like Lin's, too. It made him angry. Angry at himself, angry at her, angry at everything.

"Johnny, remember when you told me about the time you two ran over the huge bowling pins downtown?" Shaundi asks next to him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"And Hughes' statue?" Doris giggles into her bottle. "That was so fuckin' funny."

"What was it called? 'The Pride of Stilwater?'" Johnny cringes slightly at the thought of the tacky statue. "Did they ever put it back up?"

"If they did, we gonna need a bulldozer," Doris says.

"Tell us how you took down the Vice Kings," Shaundi says, her voice loud to get the attention of the crew.

"You mean how I worked my ass off, so Johnny could take all the credit?" Doris asks.

"Bitch, what did ya want me to do?" Johnny turns to give her a mocking look. "Hold your hand through it all?"

"You were literally holdin' your dick through it all," she responds, earning a few inciting cheers from the members listening to them.

"Guys, we wanna hear stories," Shaundi says in a pleading voice, soon realizing it's useless trying to get between Doris and Johnny when they start to argue about the old days. They're way too invested in playing the blame game, until someone else interrupts them.

"Yo, how do we know you're the real deal, though?" A guy sitting by a counter asks, addressing his question to Doris. He looks and sounds too proud for his own good. His tattoos reach up to his face and he's not wearing any purple. He hasn't been exactly convinced by watching the two 'legends' bicker with each other several times during the past few days.

Doris gives him a long, condemning stare, unappreciative of the fact a man she only knows by name felt the need to be disruptive. "Excuse me?" She asks slowly, her eyes narrowed.

"Yeah," he says as he stands up with a sudden burst of unfounded confidence by whatever drug he has running through his system. "All I've been hearin' is that the Playa was a dude."

"Reed, shut up," a guy next to him says, trying to pull him back down to the bar stool he was sitting on.

"Oh, please, let him speak," Doris says, poison dripping from her words, concealed under a soft tone.

"I think I'm speakin' for all of us when I say you haven't shown us any reason why we should, ya know, take orders from you," Reed continues, foolishly unaware of what he's getting himself into.

She nods, twirling her long necklace around her finger. "Interestin' point."

"For all we know, the real Playa did die on that boat."

"And I'm just some random bitch who decided to steal all the glory, right?"

Reed nods, grinning like he's proven a point nobody else had the guts to bring up. "Yeah."

"Huh," Doris turns to Johnny, "you hear that?"

Johnny doesn't say anything. He's way too eager to see what she's going to do, and she doesn't disappoint him when she shoves her hand under his jacket to pull out his gun, clicks the safety off and shoots Reed in the knee before he has the slightest chance to react, making people around him back down in a wave. He drops to the floor with a shocked scream, staring down at his knee and the blood that stains his jeans. He slaps his hands over his knee, swearing, looking like he's about to start crying.

Doris hands Johnny his gun back. She gets off the couch and straightens her dress. The small smile she had on her face is gone. Johnny pulls out a knife and hands it to her handle first. Someone's about to get a bitter lesson from her, and for once, it's not him.

"Honey, lemme tell you somethin'," she says as she walks up to Reed slowly, circling the bonfire, the clicks of her high heels against the floor ominous. When she reaches him, he doesn't pay attention to her. She kicks him. "Yo, you listenin'?"

Reed keeps on moaning in agony. She sighs, rolling her eyes as she grabs a hold of his wrist, pulls him with her to a stack of planks, slams his hand on top of them and jams the knife through his flesh, between his bones, making sure the blade reaches the wood deep enough to keep him firmly in place. When he's done screaming, she grabs his chin to make eye contact. "You listenin' now?" She asks, and as he nods, she let's go of his chin, patting his cheek. "Good boy."

"Man, I wish I had some popcorn right now," Pierce says quietly next to Shaundi.

She shushes him, staring at the scene happening before them with wide eyes. She's terribly excited to be part of a crew led by a woman, it's one of the reasons she joined, and she doesn't want to miss a thing Doris does, especially an educational moment like this.

"In case this shit-for-brains did speak for all of you, don't worry, I hear ya," Doris says, loud and clear, as she walks around the stack of planks. "Suppose I'm a fake bitch lookin' for easy fame and money. Suppose I didn't get blown the fuck up at Hughes' fundraiser. Suppose I didn't work my ass off to get to the top."

Every member of the crew watches her, quiet, fully aware of the high possibility of being the next person to receive a complimentary bullet from her, if they make the mistake of opening their mouth.

"Suppose Julius Little didn't pick me to be his right hand for the skill and loyalty I showed," she says, anger growing under her ribs. "Suppose Benjamin motherfuckin' King didn't give me his car as a thanks for cleanin' up the fuckin' mess his own crew got him into."

Johnny hides his proud smile with his usual stoic face. She's livid and loud and self-assured, and right now, he's loving it. He's been waiting for something like this to happen, because he's her witness, the only one in the lobby who was there; killing members of rival crews, blowing up buildings, running from the cops. She was magnificent back then, even if they argue about which one of them deserves the credit.

"Suppose it wasn't me who sniped the fuck outta Hector Lopez, blew up the plane Angelo Lopez was in — suppose it wasn't me who ended the supremacy of the Carnales, the first organized fuckin' gang in Stilwater!" She grabs a hold of the handle of the knife, twisting it as far as the wooden plank allows, forcing Reed's hand to turn. The shriek she pulls from his throat is nearly inhumane. "Suppose it wasn't me who slit William Sharp's throat and watched him bleed to death in the middle of a motherfuckin' highway!"

Reed gasps for air, panting, the pain visible on his face, still thinking he can hang onto his pride by not looking at Doris.

"Is this what you're sayin', huh? That I'm a liar?" She asks, then turning around to face the crew. "Is this what y'all thinkin'? That I should prove myself to this _puto pendejo_? A guy with a fuckin' tear tattoo on his face?"

"That's so far from what I'm thinking right now," Shaundi says with a small, amused laugh, not afraid at all to be the first one to speak, drawing in the confidence Doris shows. If she had any doubts about wanting to follow her before, she has none now.

"Yea, you gotta be stupid as fuck to think the Playa was a dude!" A girl leaning into a railing on the second floor shouts. "As if a man coulda done half the shit she did!"

"Men ain't that smart," another girl next to her says.

"Right?" Doris asks with her arms spread. She turns back to Reed. "So — who the _fuck_ are you?"

He glares up at her, furious, finally finding his voice. "You psycho bitch!"

"Oh, you ain't seen nothin' yet, and you ain't gonna," she says. "Unless you stupid enough to ever show your fuckin' face here again."

"You got no idea who you fuckin' with, bitch!" He spits, sweat dripping down his forehead because of the pain he's in. "Half of Prawn Court's gonna be up your ass for this!"

" _Ayy_ , look at me shakin' in fear," she says mockingly, reaching down to jerk the knife off, making Reed scream again. She uses his shirt to clean the blood off the blade. She could just kill him and have his body parts buried in four different places, but since he's not a real threat, it's better to use him to send a message to whoever might want to join them, or oppose them. "Cass, Mickey," she says as she points at two members standing on watch at one of the doors leading out of the lobby. "You've been promoted from hobo duty to draggin' this stupid-ass bitch outta here."

Cass leaps instantly over a rolled-up carpet to make her way to Reed, happy to take the trash out, and Mickey follows her. They both made it through canonization without getting their asses kicked, proving to be good muscle, but Doris sees more potential in them, so she puts them through shitty jobs as a part of their training, mainly to test their loyalty and how far they're willing to go.

"Yo, what do we call you, though?" Mickey asks from the stairs as they're dragging Reed up.

"You call her the Boss," Johnny says from the couch. " _La jefa_."

Doris shoots him a glare, but he answers it with a subtle, annoying grin behind his bottle of beer.

"Sounds perfect!" Shaundi chirps, and while the others agree, Doris purses her lips into a thin line, because she has nothing better on her mind. She's not happy about everyone suddenly calling her something Johnny said while they were having steamy, drunken sex, but she doesn't want them using any of her real names, and as proud as she is to be the Playa, it's an old title, not fit for a leader.

"At least you didn't tell 'em to call me _el jefe,_ " she says as she sits back down next to Johnny, handing him the knife back.

He shrugs. "You learn stuff watchin' those dumbass telenovelas."

"You're still an ass," she says as she grabs his beer from his hand to finish it. She can't wait to see if he has the nerve to call her 'Boss' in front of Aisha.

"Yep."

"That name ain't gonna stick."

"Wanna bet?" He asks, making her pout.

"No."

Pierce walks back to the couch he left to get drinks. He's carrying four bottles of beer and he turns to Doris first. "Yo, Boss, you wanna—"

"Pierce, shut the fuck up!" She snaps at him, pointing a finger at the unguarded door. "You're on hobo duty, congrats!"

He blinks in confusion. "Wha—what did I do?"

"I'd go if I were you," Shaundi says with a grin, taking the bottles from him to pass them around.

Johnny laughs quietly to himself, opening the bottle up by using his teeth. Pierce frowns, but after what just happened to Reed, he's smarter than to start arguing about it, looking defeated as he heads to the door to suffer his unreasonable punishment.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank the devs for enabling The Girl Power by adding the choice for a female protagonist in SR2. Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, showstopping, spectacular! Thanks!


	5. You, you have no idea what you do to me

 

* * *

 

_"'Sup?"_

"You busy, J-Ho?"

_"Nah."_

"Well, then," Doris throws her legs onto her desk, holding her phone between her ear and shoulder, as she admires her freshly manicured nails, "you in the mood for a good ol' drive-by?"

_"Yo, count me the fuck in."_

"Great."

_"I gotta say, I've missed it how you read my mind even when we're miles apart."_

She smiles. Johnny's clearly in a good mood. "It's the Devil in me coordinatin' our mutual interests and turnin' them into actions to achieve maximum sin," she says.

_"And when'd you let the Devil in, again?"_

"Took him into my bed when I was sixteen."

_"Damn, that's hot."_

"Oh, yeah," she giggles, "the flames of Hell licked me up good that night."

Johnny laughs. " _You talk so much nasty shit for a catholic girl."_

"I'm going down there, anyway, so I might as well go there a legend."

_"A positive outlook on your evident afterlife and an ambitious goal. I respect that."_

"Come pick me up?"

_"Where you at?"_

"Hideout."

_"On my way."_

Fifteen minutes later Doris peeks her head out of the front door of the old Mission House when she hears a car pull up. She shoves her phone into her purse and leaps to the car in her high heels and mini skirt, doing her best to avoid the snow, refusing to let a damn season to stop her from being cute and fashionable while committing first-degree murder. Johnny crumples up the wrapping paper of his finished burger in his hands and throws it over his shoulder into the back seat.

"We need an elevator," she says, sounding irritated, as she slips into the car and pulls the door shut as fast as possible to keep the cold out. "One of those rotten, wooden steps cracked under my heel, and I almost fuckin' died."

"Yeah, I don't think an elevator's our top priority right now," Johnny says, using a paper napkin to wipe his fingers clean and throwing it over his shoulder, too. "We need heatin'. My ass freezes every damn time I sit down."

She glares at him, flipping down the sun visor in front of her to use the mirror to check her lipstick. "You and your diva ass."

"Did you go to the meetin' with Carlos?" he asks. His family told him about all the shit the Brotherhood had done in their neighborhood, and judging by that, Maero's way of handling things sounded cruel and unpredictable. He wanted to go with Doris and Carlos to the meeting, but when Doris texted him about it, he was about to have dinner with Aisha, and Doris told him not to bother. Considering she ended up spending two years in a coma the last time she went to a meeting without him, because he was busy doing other stuff, instead of having her back, he wasn't really happy about staying behind. He was worried and he just wanted to smoke instead of eating, so dinner last night didn't go that well.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"Maero and his white-trash bitch basically told us to go fuck ourselves," she says, summing up the events of yesterday, deciding it's best not to mention how they engaged in a firefight with the cops while escaping. She wants to go on a murder spree, not watch Johnny moping around because he didn't get to participate in committing capital felony.

He raises his eyebrows, even though he sort of expected it. Just because Doris agreed to hear Maero out, it didn't mean she was going to accept anything less than the Brotherhood giving her back what belongs to her, and Maero didn't seem like a generous guy, anyway. "What happened?" he asks as he pulls out of the parking lot.

"He graciously offered a twenty-eighty percentage."

"Yo, that's straight up a fuckin' insult."

"I know!" She slams the visor back up, clearly still pissed off by her encounter with the rival gang leader. "Then he said we're just two washed-up bangers."

"We're on our way to kill him now, right?"

"That's too easy. And definitely too kind."

He nods. "We ain't kind."

"Far from it," she says, tapping her nails on her purse. "I don't want any leather-wearin' assholes ruinin' my welcome back party on Friday."

"So, what's the plan? You wanna go stir shit up in Ezpata?"

"Yeah."

"Should I call for backup?"

She gives him a condemning glance. "You gettin' too old to handle this ourselves?"

"Yo," he says, turning to look at her as he stops at a red light, "why ya gotta be so mean?"

"Well? Are you?" she asks as the tone of her voice takes a playful turn. She can't be pissed off when Johnny pouts.

"Fuck no."

"Then shut up and drive."

 

* * *

 

On Friday Doris' brother and his crew throw her the welcome back party at El Hombre. It's a bar near their apartment, a place the Morenos have been going to for years. The bar is a little shabby, worn out by time, but in a cozy way. It's also a venue, so there's a stage at the back, and the second floor is partly open, looking like a huge balcony with several booths and thick drapes hanging between them to provide some privacy. Most of the walls are covered in posters of bands and artists, and one wall is full of signatures. Cigarette smoke drifts slowly in the air, turning the dim lights hazy. The loud chatter of Spanish and English competes with the speakers playing music.

Doris finishes her cigarette and puts it out into an ashtray. The bar hasn't changed at all in two years and it makes her feel less anxious. With all the changes that have happened around the city, she's happy to be able to still call the bar her second living room. She hasn't gotten used to what the old Saint's Row has been turned into, yet. She doubts she ever will.

" _Jefa!_ " Carlos pulls her out of her thoughts as he makes his way through the crowd to the bar counter to have a chat with her.

"Yo, Carlos," she greets him with a smile. "You havin' fun?"

"Yeah, it's a great party," he says, returning her smile. "I haven't seen any members of the Brotherhood around. You and Gat did an awesome job drivin' 'em out."

"So, you think we still got it?"

"Hell yeah!" He sits down next to her. "Maero doesn't know what he's talkin' about."

"They'll be back soon, though," she says as she motions for the bartender to double her order. "It's gonna take more than a li'l drive-by to smoke 'em outta here."

"You know, you should take me with you next time," he says.

"You ever been in a drive-by?"

"Well... I've seen it happen. Twice."

She chuckles. "Yeah, that's not really the same thing."

"But I'm tellin' you, I'm ready."

" _Mira, Carlos,_ " she says as she hands him a bottle of beer and leans in a little closer, "there's gonna be a lot of that shit. I need you focusin' on the bigger picture right now, on how to take down Maero and that racist fuckin' bitch of his. Your phone's gonna start ringin' every damn night soon enough and you're gonna wish you could just stay in bed. Trust me."

His head sinks a little while she speaks, but he nods. "I trust you, Boss."

"You just got outta jail, you're at a party, you got a beer in your hand, and the girls are pretty," she says as she gives his shoulder a quick squeeze. "Live a little, okay?"

"Yea, okay."

"Good."

He drinks his beer quietly for a moment, until he remembers the reason he came to talk to her in the first place. "Hey, I didn't know you're related to Felipe Moreno."

"Yeah, he's my big brother," she says as she looks over to a table where Felipe is talking to Shaundi and Pierce. She introduced them to him when they made it to the bar, which, she quickly realized, may have been a mistake on her part. She could practically see his eyes turning into hearts when it was Shaundi's turn. Knowing fully well what her brother's like, she's going to have to keep an eye on him tonight. "You know him?" she asks, turning her attention back to Carlos.

"Naw, I just know of his crew."

"Oh, you like their team?"

"Are you kiddin'? They're the best team in Stilwater! Last year, they won every race they competed in," he says, clearly getting excited. " _¿Que loco, no?_ "

She nods. "Yeah, they've been gainin' fame like crazy durin' the past couple of years."

In terms of eliminating the competition, the Saints did Felipe's racing team a favor by wiping out the Westside Rollerz. Ever since the Brotherhood took over the area of Barrio where their garage is located, though, the gang started taking monthly payments from them for operating on their territory, which had pretty much been a standard procedure of the Carnales, too. However, the Brotherhood quickly began raising the sum. They fought back at first, since the money the gang demanded was ridiculous, but after one of their mechanics got nearly beaten to death and some of their best cars were stolen, playing along became the easier thing to do. They adjusted to the situation, just like all the other businesses did. Doris, on the other hand, is not having any of that. Nobody fucks with the crew that kept her brother from completely wrecking up his life, losing their home, ending up on the streets, and probably dying, while she was gone. Just for the sake of showing them gratitude, she's ready to tear apart the Brotherhood.

"Man, it'd be cool to work at their garage," Carlos says.

"You want me to introduce you to Felipe?" she asks, tilting her head. She wouldn't have made it out of the prison without Carlos, so she owes him, and even if she didn't, she would still do him the favor, because she likes the kid.

"I mean—would you?"

"Sure, Carlos," she says, smiling at how hopeful he sounds, as she hops off the bar stool. "But I gotta warn you, he's a fuckin' _pendejo_."

He laughs and follows her. "Yeah, I got a big brother, too."

Felipe offers Carlos a seat straight away to engage him into a conversation about engines and rims and the race he just got back from, like Doris thought he would, leaving her a short window to snatch Shaundi and move her to another table with some bullshit excuse, as far away as possible, hoping Felipe might forget about her.

On the other side of the bar, Johnny heads to the end of the bar counter to get a drink before he speaks to anyone. It's been several days, and he hasn't seen Felipe yet. He hasn't seen him since the funeral, and as much as he hates to admit it even to himself, he's nervous. After he found Doris in the prison's infirmary, he reached out to Felipe, asked him to come for a visit, but Felipe refused. Knowing he couldn't share the news over the prison lines, and that Felipe wouldn't change his mind, Johnny had to find a cellphone the guards didn't know about. It took him weeks, and thinking about how the cellphone made it inside the prison walls in the first place, put a permanent, grumpy frown on Johnny's face for a while.

"Yo, Robo-leg!" Doris pops up next to him. She came back for the bottle of beer she forgot on the counter, only to realize it's gone. "How long you been here? Were you just gonna sit here by yourself the whole night?"

"I just got here," he says as the bartender hands him the beer he ordered.

"Yeah, right," she snorts. "I know exactly what you're like, Johnny. Buy me a drink."

"There's at least fifty guys in this bar who will buy you a drink," he responds, without having to take a look around first. He knows it's a fact.

"But I want you to buy me a drink," she says, pouting at him, cute and persuasive. It's going to be funny later when he figures out that, with his name on the guest list, he could drink for free.

"Do I look like I got cash?"

She leans her cheek to her hand, pursing her lips at him. "You're wearin' new clothes," she says as she gives him a quick, analyzing look. She moves her gaze back up to meet his eyes. "Expensive-ass clothes."

"My sisters forced me to go shoppin' with 'em," he says, shrugging. One of his older sisters works in the fashion industry and he made the mistake of telling her about the party he was going to attend. His sisters have always complained about the way he dresses. He figured out long ago it's all in all in his own best interest not to start arguing with them when they set on doing something concerning him, like updating his wardrobe. Saves him from having to shop for himself and, with the discounts his sister gets, a shitload of money.

"Well, you do look hot, baby," Doris says into his ear low, changing her tone to a demanding one in a fracture of a second. "Now, buy me that fuckin' drink."

Johnny blinks off the surprise from having her so close all of a sudden, and the chills he got from the hot air she blew into his ear. "Fine," he grunts, motioning for the bartender to come to their end of the counter.

"Watch out, Felipe's comin'," Doris says a few minutes later as she plays with the straw in her mojito. "Don't say anythin' about Rizzo and the guns. Or the hideout. Or the new crew."

Johnny frowns, confused, turning to her. "Wait—you haven't told him?"

"Gat."

Johnny sighs inaudibly as he hears Felipe's voice behind him. He turns around to face him, while Doris sticks the straw between her lips and concentrates on her drink, acting innocent.

"Yo, uh, whassup?"

"I'm good," Felipe says as he folds his arms over his chest, not giving much out on how he feels about seeing Johnny. "You?"

"Couldn't be better," Johnny replies.

"Heard they were gonna fry your ass."

"Yeah, well, Doe helped out with that."

"Yeah."

They fall into a silence, and Johnny can't determine whether it's an awkward one, or if he should prepare to have his ass beaten, as Felipe keeps staring at him with his face blank and his posture slightly threatening.

Then Doris leans in closer to Johnny. "Ya know he's gonna kiss you, right?" she asks with a small grin on her face.

Johnny frowns at her again, but doesn't get to react in any other way, before it's too late. Felipe takes a step closer, grabs Johnny's head between his hands, preventing him from escaping, and plants a kiss right on his mouth. As Felipe's already drunk, the kiss ends up being a little too wet for Johnny's liking.

"I forgive you, bro," Felipe says, still holding Johnny's face in his hands, after pulling back. He smiles and pats Johnny's cheek before releasing him, then making his way to the restrooms. "Love you!"

Doris laughs at Johnny's face — he's frowning and smiling and looking mildly shocked all at once. He didn't expect Felipe to forgive him so easy and he definitely didn't expect to be kissed by a man tonight. He wipes at his mouth as Doris keeps laughing until tears pour down her face and she's doubling over on her seat, physically unable to stop.

"It wasn't that funny," Johnny grumbles, but she begins laughing even louder, just about to choke from laughter, and he can't keep a straight face, either. It's good to see her react like that. "You Morenos be always pullin' crazy shit," he says, shaking his head. He smiles a little into his bottle before drinking.

Doris is holding up a compact mirror and fixing her make-up, still letting out some random bursts of tipsy giggles, when Felipe waltzes his way back to them.

"I'm here, _mi cariños_ ," he announces as he slams his body between their bar stools.

"Watch where you go with that mega-ass, Jabba the Hutt," Doris snaps at him, wiping off the lipstick she applied on her cheek because of him.

"Everybody knows I got an underwear model's butt," he says with a pout. "Right, Johnny?"

"Looks like your need to be the centre of attention hasn't decreased," Johnny notes dryly.

"Believe me, it's only gotten worse," Doris says, snapping her mirror shut and gathering up everything she spread over the counter back into her purse.

"So, what've you been up to since you got out?" Felipe asks Johnny. "Suppose you gotta lay low for a while?"

"Think it's time to tell him, Doe," Johnny says.

"What?" Doris leans over the counter to frown at him. "No."

"Time to tell me what, _niña_?" Felipe asks.

"Nothin'," Doris hurries to say, kicking at Johnny's leg.

"We're bringin' the Saints back," Johnny says, despite of the sharp warning kick he just received. Right now, he's more comfortable going against Doris, rather than her brother.

She stares at Johnny with her eyes wide, offended to her core, genuinely shocked that he would betray her like this. During the next few seconds she tries to come up with a plan on how to retaliate with furious speed before her brother takes her chance away by killing Johnny.

"Yea, I know," Felipe says.

Doris turns to him, dumbfounded. _"¿Qué?"_

"She thinks she's so sneaky about everythin' she does," Felipe says lovingly, wrapping an arm around Doris' shoulder and planting a kiss on her head.

She tries to push him off. "How the fuck did you find out?"

"So, you're fine with it?" Johnny asks the more important question.

Felipe shrugs his shoulders. "I don't got much of a choice, do I?" He did his best guiding Doris towards a safer life when they were younger, despite of always knowing she would probably end up following in their father's footsteps, one way or another. When Doris first joined the Saints, they fought about it a lot, but in the end, the other career path she spent a year training for in Mexico before that wasn't any better. At least, this way she stays home and he can keep an eye on her.

Doris manages to shake him off. "Again, how the fuck do you know what I've been doing?" she asks.

He chuckles. "You thought I went racin' and left you unsupervised?"

"You had me _followed_?" She sounds offended once again. "Who the fuck was it?"

"God sees everythin' you do," he replies simply before taking a sip of his beer.

She rolls her eyes. "And what he do? Sends you texts?"

"I will never let you outta my sight again," he says, ignoring her disrespectful question and pulling her into a tight hug.

_"¡Vale ya!"_ she whines into his shirt with her cheek flat against his chest, stretching her words. "You ruinin' my make-up!"

"Hug her tighter," Johnny says, letting his comment out before giving any thought to how easily it could backfire on him.

"You!" Felipe grabs Johnny and pulls him into a hug, too. "Come here."

"I don't need you doin' this to me in public," Doris keeps whining, trying to wriggle out of his loving grasp to no avail.

"I'm just so happy to have you kids back," he says with a sniff as he kisses both of their heads.

"Yo, who you callin' a kid?" Johnny asks, frowning, well aware that he's the oldest of the three, since Felipe's a year younger than him.

"You know he's right to call you that," Doris says. "You're like a fuckin' fifteen-year-old."

"Say that again, bitch?"

Now Felipe slaps the back of Johnny's head. "Bruh."

"What the hell, man?" Johnny grunts as he brings his hand up to rub the spot Felipe slapped. It wasn't gentle at all.

"Don't call her that," Felipe says, shaking his head at him in a scolding manner.

"She started it."

Felipe's about to say something, when his brow suddenly furrows. He lets go of Johnny and takes a step back to give him the same type of analyzing look Doris did earlier. "Dude," he sounds pleasantly surprised, "you wearin' Dolce n' Gabbana? Or is that Armani?"

Johnny sighs. Yesterday, while he got dragged around stores for hours, he really missed the cheap, orange prison uniform that made his skin itch. For two years he had no say in what he wore and life truly was much simpler then. "I don't fuckin' know," he says, sounding tortured.

"Are you serious?" Doris asks, perfectly pretending to be upset. "You come here actin' like you ain't got the money to buy me a drink while wearin' an actual high fashion suit?"

"I didn't fuckin' buy it!" Johnny yells now, frustrated, as he turns around and walks off to find himself an ashtray, unaware of how wide the Morenos are grinning behind his back.

"Torment him for me, too, will ya?" Felipe asks, hugging Doris one more time. Johnny's in for a long, terrifyingly descriptive explanatory on what Felipe's going to do to him, should anything bad happen to his sister, but he's way too happy and drunk to do that tonight. It's funny to watch how excellent Doris is at frustrating Johnny, anyway.

"Gotcha."

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting a list on people who kiss Johnny before Doe does:
> 
> 1\. Felipe
> 
> (The party continues in the next chapter and things get... steamy 👀)


	6. But you know that I'm spoken for

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're like me and wanna get into the mood of this chapter, the karaoke songs are Genie In a Bottle by Christina Aguilera, Can't Fight the Moonlight by LeAnn Rimes (Coyote Ugly is one of Felipe's favorite movies lmao) and Beautiful Girls by Sean Kingston :')
> 
> Anyway, here's an extra long chapter since I took so long updating!

 

* * *

 

"Doe!" Felipe yells from the stage of El Hombre, clinging to a microphone stand. "It's Genie in a Bottle! Come sing with me! _¡Venga!_ "

Doris refuses at first by showing her brother a loving middle finger, as she's not yet drunk enough to deal with how embarrassing she thinks Felipe is, but once he jumps into the crowd, drags her up to the stage and puts a microphone into her hand, she puts up a show with him, like they always do. They end up having so much fun that they move straight to another pop song, which includes her dancing on the bar's second counter near the stage. He still loves karaoke, and she still loves being a show-off, and as for how much they both enjoy attention, nothing has changed in that aspect, either.

Johnny spends some time at the long row of tables Felipe's crew put together. He doesn't mind chatting with them, since he always thought of them as a cool and impressive bunch of people. He used to hang around with them because of Felipe. They would race and drink and do crazy stupid stunts, and the girls at the contests in their minimalist clothing were hot. Hanging out with Felipe was easy, because he's outgoing and he tends to act friendly with almost everyone, meaning he did most of the talking. In that sense, he's nothing like his sister. Doris is good with people, even polite, but Johnny knows she fakes most of it. There are clearly a few individuals in her life she loves and cares about, but the rest of the world is free game for her to use and manipulate, and toy with, and she's perfectly aware that beautiful people can get away with cruel things. She rips souls apart, and even when the blame does fall on her, she doesn't care.

Johnny's reminded of that by the borderline shameless looks she throws at him from the dance floor that night. She dances for hours — with Shaundi, her friends, and men she doesn't know. Everything from her short, sparkly silver dress to her ear rings, necklaces, bracelets, rings, and the glitter in her eyeshadow shines and flashes in the lights of the bar. He doesn't doubt for a second that she spent a few hours carefully planning her outfit to make sure nobody would miss the gorgeous sight of her tonight, that everyone's eyes would be on her, maybe only on her. He shifts in his seat when her fingers tug on her dress, pulling the hem up along her thigh. The draped neckline of her dress hangs low, showing off a good portion of her breasts, and he kind of regrets coming to the party.

"She's really pretty tonight."

Johnny glances at Shaundi sitting down next to him. "Yep."

"You're not the only one staring at her," she continues. They hadn't seen each other for a few months until Johnny called her, since she got out back in September, but she clearly hasn't given up the cheeky way she started speaking to him in after some weeks of doing business together in prison.

"I ain't starin'."

"Really?"

"I got a girlfriend."

"Okay, whatever you say," she chirps in a tipsy tone, spinning around on her seat to face the counter, and then adding, "baby daddy."

"Yo," he frowns at her, "don't bring the dog into this."

Shaundi just giggles. She thinks it's adorable how Johnny clearly has a soft spot for Doris' dog, despite of denying it every chance he gets. "How do you feel being back out in the real world?"

"Uncomfortable," he replies as he removes his jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt.

"I didn't know you dress so fancy."

"I don't."

"Oh, so, you dressed up for the Boss?" she asks, her tone turning into a teasing one again.

"No."

" _Mi amor,_ " Felipe coos as he sweeps in to take Shaundi's hand into his to kiss the back of it, unknowingly saving Johnny from any further teasing, "lemme buy you a drink."

"The drinks are free, though," she says, giggling at the way he smiles and winks an eye at her. He's cute and she likes the attention.

"The drinks are _what?_ " Johnny asks, his voice rising towards the last word.

"Free of charge," Felipe says helpfully. "You didn't know?"

Before Johnny has a chance to say anything else, Doris sways to the counter following her brother. "I'm thirsty!" she announces. "Johnny, buy me a drink."

"Go fuck yourself," he replies.

She takes a step back, blinking, faking shock. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Bitch, you knew the drinks are free!"

"Aww," she grins mischievously, "you weren't supposed to find out yet."

Johnny frowns deeper than he has since he got out of prison. "Why ya gotta act like I'm one of the desperate, horny dudes you scam?"

"Honey, my skills are rusty, I gotta start with an easy target." She tilts her head, pouting. "Does it hurt your feelings?"

"What's up with all this tension here?" Shaundi asks with a giggle that sounds kind of nervous. "Gat, you want me to get you a blunt?"

"He doesn't do drugs," Felipe says, reaching out to pinch Johnny's cheek lovingly. "He's a good boy."

Shaundi blinks. All they had in prison was their self-made wine, so aside from her constant mentions of how much she would love even a poorly rolled joint, they didn't really talk about drugs. "What, not even under peer pressure?"

"No," Johnny says.

"Then what do you do when you wanna relax?"

"I kill people."

She chuckles. "I think you could do with another method."

Felipe is about to open his mouth to steal Shaundi's attention back to him, but Doris proves to be the quicker sibling, shoving him off his seat surprisingly easy — as he participated in downing a trayful of shots before coming to the bar counter — and taking his place herself. "Shaundi, Pierce asked for you," she lies casually, ignoring her brother whining down on the floor.

"Oh?" Shaundi turns to her. "What does he want?"

"I look like a fuckin' instant messenger to you?"

"Okay, I'm going," Shaundi says in her best amicable tone as she quickly finishes her drink, leaves the empty glass on the counter and hops off her seat, disappearing into the crowd.

"Don't be so mean to her," Felipe says, pulling himself off the floor after realizing Doris isn't in the mood to help him up.

"Ain't none of your business."

"Why you keep sendin' her away?"

"Don't you fuckin' dare go after her," she snaps.

He pouts, but he takes the seat Shaundi left free. "She's like a li'l churro," he says, leaning his chin to his hand. "I'd love to dip her in chocolate and—"

"Ew, stop," Doris says as she makes a face of moderate disgust. "You need Jesus."

"I wanna drink bong water with her."

"Dude, you still do that shit?" Johnny asks, sharing the disgusted look on Doris' face.

"We'll serve bong water shots at our wedding," Felipe says, sighing dreamily.

"Felipe," Doris grabs a hold of his chin to get his attention, squishing his cheeks between her fingers, "I'm gonna fuckin' snap you in half if you talk to her ever again." She uses her free hand to point a finger at his face while she speaks. "I don't need you messin' around with my lieutenant. My crew ain't your fuckin' dating show."

"But I think I'm in love with her," he says with his voice muffled.

"You fall in love three times a day, you emotional whore," she sighs annoyed, releasing his chin.

"You withhold love, and I spread it around," he claims. "That's how we roll."

"All you spread around are diseases."

He grabs his chest, over-acting hurt. _"¿Por qué eres tan mala conmigo?"_

"That's what you get for bein' the li'l bitch of this family," she replies as she turns to the drink the bartender brought her.

"He ain't wrong, though," Johnny says, still salty over Doris fooling him into buying her a drink. "Everybody knows you're a heartless witch."

She turns to him with a drunken glare — she looks twice as mean when she's intoxicated. "Who asked you, Johnny? Like, anythin'? Ever?"

He turns to her, now, glaring right back. "Who asked me to buy her a fuckin' drink?"

"Will you chill the fuck out?" she asks, rolling her eyes. "It was, like, seven bucks."

"Yeah, like an hour with you," Johnny replies.

Felipe bursts out laughing. Doris stares blankly at nothing for a few, exasperated seconds. Then she sighs, grabs her purse and drink, and leaves the bar counter. It's almost embarrassing how she didn't see that comeback coming. She needs to step up her game.

After Felipe's done laughing, he puts his hand on the back of Johnny's neck and pulls him in closer. "If you were anyone else, I'd kill you for that," he says and kisses Johnny on the cheek, managing to make him smile.

"Yea, I know."

 

* * *

 

 

It's past midnight when Felipe climbs up to the stage again to dedicate a song about beautiful girls and suicidal tendencies to _the enamouring ganja queen he was destined to meet tonight_ , absolutely thrilled about coming up with a clever way to break Doris' rule without actually breaking it, really making Doris regret inviting her own crew members to the party. She's beyond the point of caring enough to throw a well-aimed bottle at her brother, though, and she would much rather just escape from his sickeningly lovelorn behavior, so she decides to go check her makeup. On her way to the restroom, she walks by the table where Johnny sits.

"You," she yells over the music, pointing at Johnny and then up, "meet me upstairs in five."

Johnny welcomes the chance to get away from the crowd. He's out of cigarettes, but he doesn't bother buying more before heading up, since he can't go back home smelling too much of smoke. Aisha is on a mission to make him quit smoking, which he's been meaning to do for years, but has failed miserably every time, and she would beat his ass if she knew that he went through almost a whole pack tonight.

Upstairs he walks by a few booths with mostly couples making out, until he sees Doris sitting alone on a couch, typing a message on her phone, probably asking how things are going back at the hideout, or giving out orders. He sits down next to her. "You havin' fun, Boss?"

"I still can't believe you told everyone to call me that," she says as she puts her phone into her purse.

He chuckles, sounding far too pleased with himself. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's a sex thing," she says, narrowing her eyes a bit. " _You_ made it a sex thing."

"Yo, once you get to try my dick out, I can't just let you forget about it."

"So, I'm gonna have to think about your dick now every time someone calls me 'Boss?'"

He grins. "Yeah."

"First of all, I don't even know how, but your arrogance has doubled," she says, scrunching her nose. "Second of all, it ain't that great."

"Ooh," he leans in closer, "that's not what you moaned when I made you come for the third time."

She elbows his arm, pulling away from him. "Stop talkin' about it!"

"Bitch, you brought it up!"

She rolls her eyes, reaching for her glass on a small table next to the couch. "Sure brought somethin' up three times," she mumbles into the glass before drinking.

He grins again. "Nasty."

"You nasty."

On the stage, the owner of the bar announces the name of the band that's about to start their set for the night, making Doris sigh a thankful _finally_. She doesn't want to be forced to listen to Felipe singing love songs all night at her own damn party.

"Oh, right," Johnny says as he pulls something out of the breast pocket of his jacket, handing it over to Doris. "Here. Thought you might want it back."

She takes a cassette tape from him, holding it in her hands for a moment, until a smile slowly lights up her face. It's the mix tape he gave her as a birthday gift, claiming he made it because he was tired of fighting with her over music every time they were in the same car together. "You kept this?"

"You left it in my car before... you know." He kept it because he didn't have much anything else of hers. Even though he gave her the tape only a little over a week before, the songs were still hers. Not legally, or anything, but whenever he heard them on the radio, on television, or at a bar, anywhere at all, they reminded him of her. They're her songs.

"Is that sentimentality?"

"Yo, I can always take the tape back and crush it," he says, holding out his hand.

She smiles to herself and slips the tape into her purse. "My toes are still fuckin' frozen from wearin' flip-flops," she says as she kicks off her high heels and pulls her legs under her to warm up her feet.

"That's the price of bein' vain," he replies.

She flips her hair. "Like every great goddess, I, too, must suffer for my beauty."

"Yeah, your sufferin' ain't self-inflicted at all."

"Truly a burden to be so gorgeous," she continues, ignoring his sarcasm. "A curse, if you will."

"Good to see you're back to your favorite hobby of torturin' people by remindin' 'em of what they can't have."

"Ain't always the case."

His eyebrows rise slightly, but he doesn't say anything. She probably didn't mean it the way he took it, and even if she did, he shouldn't respond to her flirting. As ignorant as he may sometimes be, even Johnny noticed how tense things were when he thought that inviting Doris over without telling Aisha about it would be fine. Aisha never knew about Doris being alive until she sat in her living room, and judging by the silent treatment he received when he got back later that night, it may have been a mistake on his part not to tell her beforehand. So, now, for once in his life, he has to behave, or risk getting kicked out.

"Johnny?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you visit me?"

"Huh?" It takes him a second to register her words. "Oh, when you were playin' Sleepin' Beauty?"

"I wasn't playin', you ass."

"Yeah, I visited you. Once."

"Oh." She stares at the people prepping the stage for a moment, then turns her head to give him a quizzical glance. "How'd you do that?"

"Wait, did Shaundi tell you?"

"No."

"Then how—"

"I remember your voice." She turns her head again, away from him, biting the inside of her lip. She's being too soft, but she can't help it. "I just thought it was a dream."

"We buried an empty coffin," he says after a short silence. "I had to find out if it was really you."

One corner of her mouth curls into a subtle half-grin. "Is that why you had to hold my hand?"

He scoffs, surprised. "Now you're just makin' stuff up."

"I felt the warmth," she says.

He shifts on the couch, avoiding looking at her face, not noticing she's doing the exact same thing. "What's it like? Being in a coma that long?" he asks to change the subject. If she wants to find out the truth, she can either break into the prison and search for a surveillance tape, or bribe someone to get it for her. He won't snitch himself out.

"You ever been put under anesthesia? The general one that knocks you out?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it was like that for me. I mean, half the time there was nothing. Just... dead space," she explains.

"And the other half?"

"Dreams that felt way too fuckin' real," she says, shuddering a little at the thought. She's had some trouble separating the things she saw in her comatose dreams from reality. Strange things trickle through into the present. Felipe has been trying to get her to see a doctor, saying that she needs to get checked up, that she can't just expect to be fine after spending two years in a coma, and he doesn't even know about her hallucinations. He's probably right. She sees things she doesn't want to see and they upset her and make her wonder whether she's even really alive. The only time she feels fine is when she's with Johnny.

"What kinda dreams?"

"I, uh, don't wanna talk about 'em," she says.

"Yeah? You good?" he asks. She's been acting like her mini mental breakdown never happened; like he didn't drive to her apartment in the middle of the night to find a shaking, anxious, complete mess in desperate need of comforting. It only took her a day to put up the mask and the wall and all the other defences she likes to keep between herself and everybody else. It's what she does.

"I'm fine," she lies, a little less casually than earlier that night. Sometimes, just sometimes she feels like she should speak the truth, especially to him, but she's too accustomed to the lies that so effortlessly fall off her lips. "Anyway, I don't know when it happened, but I started to hear people speakin'. Sometimes I heard the radio. It was like slippin' in and out of dreams, but never wakin'."

"Did you know you were in a coma?"

She shakes her head. "Not until I started chokin' on the tubes in my throat." She felt really disoriented surrounded by strangers treating her like a criminal — which she is, but that was beside the point for her — and being denied the possibility to call her brother, or anyone else familiar to her, didn't help.

"And you weren't in any pain?" He tries to play it off like it's not something he's been thinking about since he found her in that bed, all bandaged-up and barely alive, unconsciously fighting for her life.

"No," she says softly, a bit surprised that he would care about something like that. A warmth grows inside her and it's not the liquor. "Your voice felt clearer than anythin' else. I wanted to squeeze your hand back, but I couldn't. I didn't want you to go."

"I didn't wanna go," he says truthfully.

"Then why do you keep doin' it?" she asks, moving closer to him, touching his arm, emboldened by how his voice and the faint smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body next to hers intoxicate her much harder than the alcohol in her blood.

"Keep doin' what?"

"Going."

He turns to look at her. "What do ya mean?"

"You know, you need a haircut," she says out of nowhere as she runs her hand up the back of his neck, sinking her fingers in his hair. The way she changes the subject is not subtle at all, but she's too drunk to care. "Get rid of the frosted tips."

"Yo, Doe, if ya got somethin' to say, just say it," he says with his usual frown forming up on his face.

"God, you're still as fuckin' stupid as you used to be," she says, laughing, sounding amused, and almost like she's upset. She pulls away from him and pushes herself up, grabbing her purse, but forgetting her shoes, ready to flee downstairs, rather than staying in a situation she's too ill-equipped to handle.

He grabs a sudden hold of her wrist, stalling her, unintentionally causing her to lose her balance, and then catching her as she falls down half on his lap, half on the couch. Her hand lands on his chest for support. He's still only wearing the shirt with the sleeves rolled up. No jacket, just white fabric a little too tight over his chest, and bare skin and muscles.

She stares at his chest, blinking, then sighing annoyed. "Johnny, for fuck's—"

"I was just forgiven by one Moreno," he says. "Don't go startin' shit with me now."

She moves her gaze up, staring at his eyes, now. She's drunk and so inexplicably comfortable with his fingers gripping her wrist too hard, and she can't see a reason why she shouldn't have what she wants, why she shouldn't take what could so easily be hers; why she should stop herself from kissing him and having his hands touch her skin, and maybe be able to just forget for a few minutes, or hours, and feel and see and hear nothing but him.

Johnny freezes when she presses her lips to his jaw. They're soft and hot and craving for contact. She kisses the lines of the tattoo surrounding his neck. The moment her tongue touches his skin, all he can think about is the night when they finally gave in. His memories of that night turned hazy over time, but now every touch and moan are flowing back to his mind clearer than ever. Johnny's breathing turns heavier and his fingers press into her skin through her dress, heedless hands pulling her in closer. She runs her tongue up his neck, leaving lipstick marks on his skin and on the collar of his shirt, the latter one partly on purpose. He runs a hand up the back of her thigh, slipping it under her dress for a feel of her curves.

"I want you so bad," she whispers into his ear, her voice trembling, fingers tearing three buttons of his shirt open, before her hand drops down to fiddle with his belt. She's dying to know what he looks like under the clothes. She doesn't care where they are, doesn't care if it's right or wrong, doesn't give a fuck about her own principle of never messing with somebody already taken. She's been thinking about him since she saw him in that court room, since they sat in a stolen car and talked and laughed like they hadn't spent two years apart, since she watched him walk to the house of another woman instead of telling him not to go.

She kisses his cheek and the corner of his mouth, sliding her hand under his shirt to feel more of his skin, gliding her fingers over his muscles, and just when she's about to kiss his lips, Johnny places his hand on her shoulder and pushes her back a bit.

"Doe," he says in a voice she doesn't recognize, "I can't do this now."

She blinks and their eyes meet and she knows he doesn't care, either. Her heart flares inside her chest. Johnny still has his hand on her shoulder, but despite of what he said, he doesn't try to stop her from closing in the distance he put between them. He doesn't try to stop her from falling down on her back and pulling him with her, doesn't try to stop his hard-on from pressing against her, or her hips from rolling into his. The fabric of her underwear is thin and his pants feel rough against her through it, pulling a soft, needy moan from her throat. Her thighs press hard to his hips.

"Doesn't mean you don't wanna," she whispers, her tone low, breathing hot air against his lips, "or that you ain't gonna pin me down and fuck me right here."

His fingers wrap around her wrist again, slamming her hand to the armrest of the couch, the weight of his body pinning her down harshly. Even that is so much better than the constant torment going on in her head — she would let him do anything to her for a simple distraction. The heels of her feet sink between the couch cushions, her hips grinding him. His hand slips under her dress again. She's going to kiss him and he's going to let her. She lifts her free hand up to his cheek, tilting her head, both parting their lips, her nose brushing against his. Their hot breaths mix together, right until they hear Felipe's voice calling for Doris over the music, his voice effectively breaking them out of their moment of lust. Johnny lets go of Doris, pushing himself up and back to his side of the couch, while she scrambles backwards to the other side, quickly yanking the hem of her dress to cover her thighs and fixing her over-exposed cleavage. They could not look more like they almost got caught.

"My two favorite people!" Felipe beams when he finds the booth they're in. He drops on the couch to sit between them while Johnny tries to wipe lipstick off his cheek and neck, because if Felipe figures out what just happened between them, Johnny loses his spot as his favorite person as fast as he got it back. "What's going on? Why you two hidin' away?"

"Just catchin' up," Johnny says, like he wasn't about to kiss Doris, like he wasn't about to let her have her way with him, uncaring of what would happen afterwards. "I should get going, though."

"What? You serious? It's barely past midnight," Felipe exaggerates, since it's already past one in the morning.

"Yeah, well," Johnny says as he gets off the couch and grabs his jacket, "now that I'm outta jail, I gotta keep Eesh happy, you know."

"Right, I get it, bro," Felipe says and laughs in a way that makes his sister want to punch him.

"You two have fun, though. But not too much fun, we got shit to do," he says, pointing at Doris. He's doing his best to hide the side of his face she stained with lipstick. "See ya tomorrow."

"Miss you already!" Felipe yells after him. He's far too drunk and overjoyed to notice Doris not responding to Johnny's words in any way, leaning over to put way too much of his bodyweight on her shoulder. "You wanna go sing Backstreet Boys before the band starts?"

"For once in your life, stop being so fuckin' clingy," she snaps as she shoves him off. She grabs her shoes to put them back on, flings herself off the couch as she heads back downstairs, her heels clicking angrily against the floor even through the music.

"Doe! Don't be like that! Lemme love you!" he whines as he runs after her, but she doesn't listen, because her only agenda is to get as hammered as she possibly can, so absolutely, majorly _fucked up_ , that it will be physically impossible for her to think about what she just almost did.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this house we're horny for Johnny on main and feel no shame 💦💦


End file.
